The Life and Times of Mr Hyunh
by Scruff the Rat
Summary: A few snippets of one immigrant's life- from humble beginnings to a brand new start. The rating had to change due to dark and/or suggestive material later on.
1. Color

**I own nothing of Hey Arnold except the characters and elements I thought up myself.**

* * *

><p>Red…<p>

That was the color he remembered the most vividly…

Blood, anger, hate...

But most of all, pain...

Those were what that ominous shade of color meant back then.

And he remembered his wife'sface stained by that same hurtful, hateful hue…

Her face, once so bright and full of life, framed by a fiery sky...embers all around...

The roar of the helicopter echoing in the chaos…

Blood spilled over and seeping into the ground…

Hollow eyes begging him to let go….

Begging him to run…


	2. Crazy

**I own nothing of Hey Arnold except the characters and elements I thought up myself.**

* * *

><p>Staying in Vietnam for 20 years wasn't crazy; it was unavoidable.<p>

Coming to Hillwood and America wasn't crazy; it was sensible.

Choosing to live in this boardinghouse…

"Atta boy, Uncle Sam! Keep them coals burning like the rocket's red—"

Where one is subject to holidays out of sync with the calendar, long waits in the bathroom, shoddy air-conditioning, leaky roofs…

"GAH!"

Oh right…and possibly scorched eyebrows, courtesy of a poorly lit grill…?

Oh yeah, _that_ was crazy.

And Mr. Hyunh only had a few choice words.

"What a crazy holiday!"

* * *

><p><strong>I agree, Mr. Hyunh. I definitely agree.<strong>


	3. Ugly

**Let me just warn you all. The lengths will vary from one-shot to one-shot. Therefore, don't be too surprised when the next piece to this work has over 1,000 words.**

**I don't own Hey Arnold, only the****characters and elements I thought up myself.**

* * *

><p>That was <em>not <em>Arnold.

Arnold was cheery, sociable...easy to approach…

And…well, to put it bluntly, the kid wasn't a sight for sore eyes.

Arnie _was_.

How could this freak of nature even be Arnold's_ cousin_?

_'That is no cousin. That is freaky clone some mad scientist made of Arnold!'_

Seriously—

Unsynchronized blinking…

A half-dead stare…

Not the slightest sign of a smile…

And, sweet heavens, don't even mention his phlegmy snort…

**SNORT!**

See?

On second thought, scratch that question. Mr. Hyunh would've preferred to see any direction that didn't include Arnie.

"Uh, he is so ugly. I cannot look at him!"

* * *

><p><strong>Oh Arnie...the poor guy just never gets a break, does he?<strong>


	4. Voice

**I own nothing of Hey Arnold except the characters and elements I thought up myself.**

* * *

><p>He never said much as a child.<p>

He said even less as an adult.

He said nothing at all after he came to America.

People assumed he was mute for that reason, both here and back home.

Oh well, he never considered himself a man of many words anyway. That didn't mean his silence never frustrated him sometimes.

That would probably explain so many folks got the impression of him being a push-over.

So imagine the surprise on the boarders' faces when he came home one day with a guitar in his hand.

His response: "I wanted to buy one."

* * *

><p><strong>And thus Mr. Hyunh's love for country music began!<strong>


	5. Juliet

**Mr. Hyunh, as much as I love him, belongs to Bartlett and Nickelodeon.**

* * *

><p>"I am Juliet. Juliet!"<p>

I am Juliet.

Juliet…

The woman who fell in love with someone who is supposed to be enemy…

The young girl too blinded by love to think about what she was doing…

Not the father who failed to see his child grow up.

Not the man who let his own wife die before his eyes.

I just like being someone else.

I can pretend I have made the mistakes of others, other people.

Because…mistakes like mine haunt a person every day.


	6. Babes

**I don't own Hey Arnold, only the****characters and elements I thought up myself.**

* * *

><p><em>'<em>_Oy, what a way to be spending vacation...'_

Mr. Hyunh lowered himself onto the porch of the beach house, his feet sinking a bit into the sparkling sand, his slouched back testimony to the wounded pride weighing him down like an iron ball-and-chain.

With a deep melancholy sigh, he slanted his eyes in pure frustration.

Today had _not_ been a good day.

"No luck this time?"

Hyunh didn't even need to turn his head to know who just spoke.

A medium-short Polynesian woman seated herself beside Hyunh. She wasn't wearing anything particular—just a basic red T-shirt with blue shorts and brown sandals.

Her black hair, free of its usual red hairband, cascaded to her shoulders like a waterfall frozen in time and rippled gently in the soft ocean breeze like the azure waves in the far distance.

In her arms was a tattered copy of "Crime and Punishment."

Bonnie Mahana.

A fellow resident of the Sunset Arms Boardinghouse...

She and her son, Milo, came along with the rest of the S.A.B. crew (the Mahanas' pet-name for Arnold, his grandparents, and the other boarders) to enjoy the classic summertime wonders of the beach.

Sharp-eyed and at times equally sharp-tongued, Bonnie was not the type of woman who surrendered easily, especially where Milo was involved.

And Hyunh had a strong feeling this woman wouldn't give up on him either until he fessed up.

_'__She already asked in first place. Besides, it is not as if I have anyone else to complain to anyway.'_

With one more exhale, only this time with confusion, Hyunh threw his hands into the air in exasperation.

"No…I do not understand! Ernie and I did everything we could think of!" he exclaimed before fisting his hands underneath his chin, his face expressing complete defeat.

Empathy flashing across her eyes, the Tahitian softened her gaze on her crestfallen friend. "You tried face-to-face?"

Hyunh nodded. "Yes."

"Picking up something they've dropped?"

"Yes!"

"…Even burying yourselves up to the neck?"

"Yes, yes, and yes! Yet every beach lady we meet gives us cold shoulder!" Hyunh continued in exasperation, punctuating his last statement with his head balanced despondently in his hands once again.

_'__I wish Diego was here. He understood women bettah than I do.'_

Alright, enough was enough, Bonnie decided. She wasn't about to let her best friend pound himself into the ground. That was her job.

"Probably cuz you boobs are looking in the wrong places…," she responded contemplatively though not unkindly.

"What?" Hyunh arched an eyebrow at her.

Bonnie merely heaved a hefty sigh before continuing to elaborate.

"Those 'pretty beach ladies,'" she mimicked in a nasal voice in an attempt to imitate Hyunh's squeaky voice for the sake of humor even though it didn't strike the man as even remotely funny, "as you so call them …definitely not your guys' types…"

Hyunh narrowed his eyes at her a little, curious at rather than demeaned by the beautiful islander's words.

"But…how do you know?"

"Eh, trust me. All these super models…?" Bonnie twirled her hand in the air. "They're all one-nighters. That's all they're good for, actually. Plus, there's the personality to consider…"

Putting her book down and then holding a hand out, Bonnie proceeded to count on her fingers for each and every vice that came to her mind.

"Completely self-absorbed, inconsiderate, disgustingly close-minded, fickle, not to mention as dim as a bag of rocks…and even that comparison is a gross understatement. Not. Worth it. I don't even know what makes you and Ernie think having sex with those sluts is going to make a difference in your lives."

Hyunh was just about to offer a rebuttal until the reality of his neighbor's worldly words made him heavily ponder.

What _did_ he and Ernie think they'd gain?

Sex probably...

As arousing as the thought of that prospect was, Hyunh also felt that simpler results such as a nice walk on the beach or a smooch would have been just fine.

He was a simple man after all.

But would those women have accepted such subtle fantasies?

_'__They __**did **__treat us very bad.'_

"Maybe it's a guy thing?"

Nudged out of his thoughts, the foreign fellow turned his head to Bonnie in perplexity.

"What is?"

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders. "Going after the prettiest girl…even if she's probably the greatest man-eater of all time…"

Suppressing a chuckle in response, Hyunh shook his head ruefully at this painfully true observation.

_'__Arnold could relate…Thank goodness, Helga was—wait a minute!'_

Bonnie, who'd been watching the Vietnamese man's reaction in concern that she'd upset him inadvertently, frowned worriedly but then squinted her eyes in confusion at the myriad of emotions taking over her male best friend.

In just four seconds, Hyunh shifted from being pensive to critical to shock and finally to amusement. Hyunh shifted his eyesight to peer at Bonnie with a knowing smirk, arms crossed and back against the wooden wall of the house.

"You should be grateful that Suzie and her friend are not here to dispute that."

Groaning was all Bonnie could do in response to _that_ retort. She closed her eyes before facepalming and Bonnie muttering grumpily,

"Thanks for_that _recall of information…"

Quite frankly, Bonnie would rather forget how she watched her own sort-of friends be suckered so easily by that random playboy.

Then again, Bonnie couldn't blame _them_ for taking the bait. After all, living a life with a boorish beeper king or sleazy, money-grubbing Oscar was bound to suck the life out of anybody…or at least patience.

Just ask Helga and Arnold.

What disturbed the Bonnie the most, though, was the temptation _sheherself_ felt at the offer. She turned the opportunity down, of course, albeit to the disappointment of her two friends, but the lure was still there to an extent.

_'__Uh…sometimes being the strong one is a real pain in the—'_

Hyunh's voice interrupted her thought process. "Do you say this because something similar happen to Diego?"

Bonnie held back a snort.

"Shockingly, no, I knew about problems like yours before I even laid eyes on him. I'm just saying what I'm saying because I used to be bisexual. Plus I have a friend who's a lesbian. Course, Diego did provide a bit of his life stories on sour romance himself. We both know as well as he did how some women try to sell themselves."

She patted Hyunh's back affectionately, offering a sympathetic smile.

"Take my advice, his advice,_and_ her advice: start slow…_real_ slow."

Hyunh couldn't bring himself to not smile himself, not with Bonnie's countenance being so contagious. He didn't know how to properly thank her for the welcome advice, but the Tahitian woman didn't mind.

No thanks were necessary.

Now in bliss as the sky melted into fiery orange from the fleeting sunset, the two adults returned their gaze to the horizon. The lemon sun was dipping down the strawberry wine red sky, nighttime's starry black coming in to dominate the expanse above the pair's heads.

And somewhere in between the departure of the sun and the stars blinking into existence in the approaching nighttime sky, a thought tumbled its way into Mr. Hyunh's mind.

He had to ask.

"Bonnie…"

"Hmm…?"

"You have not considered anyone to date yet, have you?"

Hyunh received a piercing stare, Bonnie pursing her lips in curiosity. "Are we talking guys, chicks, or both?"

With a faint giggle at the humor, Hyunh turned to his friend. "I will go with 'both.'"

A bookmark was sealed in between the pages of the novel as the owner shut the book and, deep in thought, rested her hands on it.

"Ever since Milo's been born…no, not really…thought about it, but…"

Rather vague answer…so Hyunh dared to probe further.

"Have you thought about some of the men you already know?"

"If you mean the men in our neighborhood, then we're talking a pretty narrow selection."

"How about we start with the men in the boardinghouse?"

That question affected Bonnie instantly.

Hyunh couldn't help but notice how rigid the woman became upon hearing that sentence. Her unnaturally aquamarine irises shifted to him and possessed a light that almost dictated—no, _pleaded_ him to change topics now.

No surprise really…they both knew where this conversation was going…and for all it was worth, Bonnie understood he wouldn't stop until he got answers, satisfactory or not, one of the similarities he shared with her.

As much as her pride wouldn't let her admit this, she honestly had no other choice. Avoiding the real matter here would just complicate her and Hyunh's relationship.

Hyunh, meanwhile, rethought his method of interrogation._ '__Too obvious…much too obvious…Time for different approach…'_

"On second thought, scratch what I asked. How about this question instead…? I've known you for a while, yes?"

Bonnie's eyes no longer held that warning light, and she seemed to be more relaxed this time around. That same nervousness persisted in her eyes, however.

"Yeah…"

"And we are comfortable in each other's company, yes?"

"Yes."

"And…we trust each other… very, very much."

"So… automatically you think we should …"

Her words trailed off right there, but her companion understood. The profound light in his eyes was a dead giveaway.

Bonnie...Bonnie was beside herself. She knew exactly who she was dealing with—and that's what frightened her. Hyunh was too perfect in her opinion: sweet, humble, goofy, lovable, gentle, considerate...

She couldn't count the many times she gawked at how this guy could still be single. As far she was concerned, those beach hussies really missed out.

But did that mean she herself deserved him?

"Yiang," Bonnie tried to ignore the intensified gaze the use of Hyunh's first name brought upon her, "I…just don't know how to answer that."

Panic set in for Hyunh.

Although he did not fling his arms, the poor fellow quaked inside, indicated only by desperation on his face. Words failing him, Hyunh couldn't fathom a coherent response with which to answer Bonnie.

He could already see doubt crawling into her eyes, doubt trying to convince her of the futility of his romantic efforts.

Fumbling over his own words, the lovable but bashful foreigner opened his mouth to let something out...anything out...

Convince her that he was nothing like Bob or Oscar…

Convince her that he was indeed worth a shot…

Convince her that he was a man in whom she could trust…

Convince her that showering her love on him (and receiving his in return) could be more positive than negative…

Unfortunately, in his haste to stand up so he could ask her out to a simple dinner, Hyunh misjudged his balance in weight and ended up toppling over Bonnie.

End result: their lips mashed together and noses practically scrunched up with each other, the eyes of one gazing into those of the other.

_'__This is not happening. This is __**not **__happening.'_

End it…

He had to end this right now!

Before he led her on any further…

This wasn't fair.

Not to her…

Not to him…

All he had to do was stop.

He didn't.

Something—perhaps some sort of instinct…simply told him that he was doing just fine.

Like Hyunh, Bonnie never had time to dodge the kiss. The force of the contact (Hyunh was a colossus compared to her) nearly knocked her over, causing her hands to drop the book and allowing it to land on the sand, the open pages facing the ground.

Almost on instinct, two heavyset arms encircled her, one behind her waist and the other around her bare shoulders.

Immediately, he could feel her hands wriggling in his grasp, those hands no doubt intent on throttling him.

_'__Oh, I am dead. I am dead. I am dead, dead, dead, dead, dead…so—very—__**dead**__!'_

Such was not the case.

Degree by degree, Bonnie, her eyes slowly closing shut, managed to slip her arms out of his grasp and, standing on her tiptoes, raise her hands to caress Hyunh's face, which twitched as it adjusted to the unintended affection.

No, this petite island maiden wasn't trying to resist. She was just enjoying herself…and by the way Hyunh's body was relaxing, he was starting to follow her example.

How could he not?

At that moment, he felt young again. He felt as if he were twenty years younger. He felt as if every disaster that had befallen him had never occurred. He felt ready to take on the world.

Ready to face it with the valor of a warrior…

Just like before in Vietnam before everything went up in ashes and flames…

Sadly, all good things must come to an end.

After what seemed like a searing eternity, the presence of her flesh abandoned the man's taste.

But Hyunh still felt, even with closed eyelids, her dainty fingers linger on his cheeks for a few more precious moments.

Finally, though with subtle reluctance, Bonnie released her grip on his face, which was now a cherry red thanks to the deep blushing. As if answering to some silent command, Hyunh released his grip on her body but still maintained his gaze into her aquamarine eyes.

_'__I never thought blue and brown could look so pretty together.'_

This time, though, there was no war to separate him from the subject of his affection.

But then he realized what he had just done. His blush strengthened tenfold as he backed up and attempted to salvage

"I…I am so—"

Bonnie put a finger to his mouth in mid-sentence, silencing him. Her eyes held a gentleness that put Hyunh to instant ease.

"Don't be. Like I said, I didn't have the _words _to say it…but thanks for saying them for me."

Without another word, she stood up, gathered her book, pivoted until her back faced Hyunh, and leisurely retreated back into the beach house.

Hyunh still never took his eyes off her.

Yet right when she was on the threshold, her progress halted. Without even looking back, she addressed once more.

"Tomorrow night… 7:30 p.m. at the restaurant...Do **not** expect me in anything fancy."

Then just like that, she vanished into the cozy light of the rickety building, leaving an awestruck Hyunh with his own dazed thoughts.

The man was still conscious enough to raise a hand to his lips, the reality of what just occurred finally starting to dawn on him.

There was no rejection…

No put-downs, no slaps in the face, no derisive laughter…

Just a simple kiss…

All Hyunh could do was sigh blissfully in the nighttime air, the same beam from prior gracing his face once more.

Who needed beach babes when he had her?

* * *

><p><strong>So what you all think? Don't hold back on me now!<strong>


	7. Spark

**I own nothing of Hey Arnold except the characters and elements I thought up myself.**

* * *

><p>"Why, hell<em>oooo<em> there, miss."

Taking her attention temporarily off of Yossarian's undeserved arrest, Bonnie brought up her head so her eyes could seek out the source of the sultry voice.

She simply raised an eyebrow the moment her eyes finally landed on the source.

Looking up at her from the wooden railings of the house was quite possibly one of the shiftiest men she'd ever seen.

His skin tone was dark sepia, not too dissimilar from Bonnie's own skin color. His hair, ponytail, goatee, and tiny, handlebar moustache were black like hers as well, although the woman could smell a significant hint of heavy and tacky cologne that emanated from the man's greasy hair.

He was also skinny—_very_ skinny.

Reading this guy was a snap.

_'Blech, a whiny, two-timing version of Diego…with a scrawny manhood to boot, no doubt…'_

This bozo's clothes definitely suggested as much. Red-purple button-up shirt that exposed a bit of his hairy chest, black leather pants, and illuminate, brown shoes…

_'Yep, this guy's a lady killer.'_

Granted, Bonnie preferred not to be so presumptuous whenever she met new faces. She had Diego to thank for teaching her that lesson.

On the other hand, characters such as this loser practically _were_ just as their covers described and their intentions, if one was observant enough, could be smelt a mile away.

So Bonnie, being the direct person that she was, only had one word to say.

"S'up."

Not even raising an eyebrow at her laconic greeting, the lady killer leaned his body more on the railing, grinning suggestively all the while.

"Tell me, what is a _magnificent _creature such as yourself doing all by your lonesome, huh?"

"Enjoying being by my lonesome…," Bonnie returned in a deceptively sweet voice and equally deceptive smile, the book still wide open.

Her mind had a different tone. _'Uh, gag unto me with a spoon.'_

Clearly not deterred, the seducer maintained his cool and suave exterior.

"Why not prefer more…ambience? I'd be more than happy, of course, to provide that. Tell me, would you like—"

"Not interested," her voice was deadpan and meant to leave no room for argument. She already knew what he was going to pull out of his shirt. Frankly, she'd rather spend her passion on that homicidal snow leopard from Kung Fu Panda than waste it on an everyday pansy.

Unfortunately, Lady Killer obviously didn't get the message properly.

"Now, now, miss, you didn't let me finish! Don't tell me you'd be willing—"

Once again, Bonnie was three steps ahead of him.

"—to pass up an offer on a stimulating and _private_ dance lesson? " She abruptly finished in a mockingly thoughtful tone. She tapped a finger to her chin. "Hmm…Yeah, I pretty much am."

Lady-killer's eyes widened at the response, befuddlement by the treatment he was receiving. This chick was just plain stubborn. Seriously, how could one everyday person like her be so difficult?

He was about to make one last though futile attempt to woo this unmovable woman until...

"Oh, I am sorry. I was not interrupting anything, was I?"

A towering Asian fellow was poking his head out of the entrance of the beach house. His wide set and cheerful grin betrayed no emotion.

Lady Killer couldn't believe his eyes. He was looking at the same man from that same afternoon so long ago! In fact, the man was still wearing that baby blue shirt and khaki pants from back then, even though the goofy hat was not on his person this time.

Bonnie never bothered to notice the seducer's shock. All her attention had suddenly diverted to the other man upon his appearance.

"Nah, don't worry, Hyunhski, you weren't. Actually, this guy," she explained colloquially, pointing at Mr. Seducer, "was just telling me about this dance class he's giving out for free."

Then out of the blue, she finally shifted her attention back to him, although there was no longer in her expression that warmness she had blessed the Asian man with but the same snarkiness from earlier.

"Am I right?" she enquired with a smirk.

Stammering, the playboy stretched his collar a bit—almost as if expecting his nervousness to roll off of him like body heat.

"Uh, y—yes, Miss, b-b-b-but…"

"Oh, that sounds fun! Could I join in perhaps?"

"But—"

Lady Killer's protests fell on deaf ears.

"Of course! You didn't think I'd let you out on all the fun now, did you?"

At Bonnie's cheerful quip, the man in blue hummed to himself and tapped an index finger to his chin, giving her the same pensive sarcasm she gave the seducer...except his sarcasm had a more playful and friendlier quality

"_Well_…after you hogged last night's dinnah…"

Bonnie rolled her eyes good-naturedly before retorting just as playfully, "Please, all I wolfed down were a few thighs and some buttered rolls…there was still enough for everybody."

"You mean still enough to feed mice. I blink one moment and all my food vanish into thin air!"

Those words earned a wagging finger, commanding Hyunh to cease his words for the moment.

"Hold it there, brutha. I wasn't anywhere near you at the time. If you want to point fingers, then I suggest Oskar. Don't you tell me you didn't see the way he was eyeballing your food."

Now the Asian man, arms crossed, was the one to roll his eyes. Yet, to Lady Killer's disbelief (and maybe disgust), the action made the woman smile warmly, mock-accusatory glare withstanding.

"Besides, you're not entirely innocent yourself, are ya…Mr. Cranberry?"

The effect of that name was immediate. Whole body going rigid, the foreign fellow stared wide-eyed, mouth agape, in total surprise at his companion.

A smirk was all Bonnie needed to prove who had won this verbal battle.

"That's right. Don't think I didn't catch you sneaking some slices for yourself."

That flustered and blushing red face of Hyunh took no time at to sprout over the dude's face…or make Bonnie giggle girlishly after a few moments of examining that ridiculous countenance.

Before too long, though, Hyunh gave himself to chuckling, the sound of that chuckling joining the woman's bubbly tittering in the warm tropical air.

Meanwhile, the shifty man in front of them simply stared at the pair in utter speechlessness.

How in world was that loser able to get a smile _and_ a laugh out of her while all _he_ received were a few catty remarks and a distasteful smirk?

What did that guy have that _he_ didn't?

That guy certainly wasn't able to receive such responses from the ladies two years ago. (The shifty man knew so because he had personally viewed—and scoffed—the foreigner and a tiny man's weak and pathetic attempts to pick up some dames.) He probably couldn't even woo those two wives from two years ago.

Then why was _this woman_ treating him so affectionately?

In fact, how was this woman so different from the two blondes?

She had looked lonely enough. Maybe not miserable but still…

Yet there hadn't even been a faint sign that she had been interested in the "dance lessons." She shrugged off the whole matter so effortlessly.

Of all the women the playboy had ever come across, Bonnie was the only one he couldn't charm at all.

Her spark simply refused to accept him.

With a sullen air descending upon him at the realization of the limits of his looks' influence, Lady Killer frowned solemnly and departed from the scene.

That woman was already someone else's...and she didn't care that there was no going back.

**_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_**

"Wait, is he gone already?"

"Hmm?"

"Is he already gone?"

Snapped out of some sort of reverie, invoked no doubt by staring into Hyunh's earth brown eyes for a moment too long (he had been doing most of the talking for a while), Bonnie discreetly looked over her shoulder to check.

She and Hyunh must have been in such deep conversation that the other guy, feeling that pursuing the Polynesian woman would have been ultimately wasted, left without a word.

"Huh, what do you know? " Bonnie mused with wonderment. _'Didn't think the plan would work __**that**__ well.'_

Hyunh scratched the back of his head. "I do not think we will be seeing him for a while, will we?"

Dismissively waving a hand, Bonnie uttered nonchalantly, "Eh, I wouldn't worry about him. To be honest, I got a feeling we won't be seeing him at all next time we come here…or the time after that."

To the Polynesian female's shock, however, Hyunh's face soon grew extremely stormy as if he were recalling something unpleasant.

He was.

"Good," he muttered brusquely, huffing as he crossed his arms and glared at the ground with rage that should've made glass out of the sand, "I did not like how he looked at you when we passed his 'studio.'"

A slight blush made its way to Bonnie's face at those words. She still needed some adjustments to make towards Hyunh's defensiveness. Ever since she started dating him, this guy has become more liable than before to snap from a cuddly marshmallow teddy bear to a snarling, grizzled ursine.

What made her face redden the most, though, was the fact that this bear was _hers_.

All that hidden bestiality he displayed towards other men who gazed at her the wrong way…?

All of that was done in affection for her.

_'Kinda… touching, really…'_

"Oh…and Pooh?"

Hyunh softened at the nickname. "Yes?"

Before he could even blink, his petite lover/friend enveloped his waist in a fierce hug, the strength of which belied her frame. Her head nuzzled Hyunh's chest as her nose slowly and softly inhaled the scent of cinnamon that permeated his clothes.

"Thanks."

For the first few moments of that hug, Hyunh, all previous malice towards the seducer dissipated, did not respond. Actually, he was rather indecisive at the moment since Bonnie had never been this public with her affection towards him, even though there were few people in sight.

Then slowly—ever so slowly—a smile embraced his lips as he felt his heartbeat drumming thunderously against this mortal goddess's cheek. A calm that couldn't be explained seeped into Hyunh's thick arms, convincing them to swallow most of Bonnie's upper body in their firm embrace.

His voice was a mere whisper that tickled her cheek.

"No problem."

* * *

><p><strong>Yep, I actually included Carlos in here! XD I just love imagining possible but unused expressions for characters, especially minor ones. They become less static and flat that way.<strong>


	8. Bad

**This is something I know a ton of us could relate with Mr. Hyunh on. **I own nothing of Hey Arnold except the characters and elements I thought up myself.****

* * *

><p>"You cannot stay here!"<p>

Seriously, what the heck was he doing here?

No, scratch that—did he _think _he was doing here?

Mooching off of Suzie was bad enough.

Does this free-loader honestly think he has the right to do likewise to everyone else in the boardinghouse?

Where does this man get the nerve anyway? Where?

"You are not a good person, not a good person at all!"

And just like that, Hyunh slammed the door in Oscar's face then walked away, slapping his hands together repeatedly if he'd just handled something dirty...which wasn't too far from that truth.

Damn, showing up that freeloader always felt good!

All of sudden, a second knock came to the door. Hyunh scowled and stomped back so he could wretch the door open and give Oscar a proper wallop.

Except no one turned out to be there after Hyunh opened the door. He scratched his head in wonder; he swore he heard someone knock and even Oscar, immature as he was, wasn't infantile enough to commit such a dumb prank.

What in the world was going on?

Hyunh was just about to close the door, huffing about "getting senile in his age" before the sound of someone clearing their throat caught in his ears. He looked down to see a very familiar and certainly non-Oscar face.

A warm smile stretched across Hyunh's face at the little boy standing at his doorstep as the middle-aged man set his hands akimbo.

"Ah, Milo, what brings you here?"

"Mom wants to know if you have any shovels."

"I believe so," the Vietnamese man slowly nodded his head, the request confusing him, Why?"

"She broke the last one because Oscar came to our door so she needed something to...dissuade him away, so to speak. She sort of overdid it. Now she needs another shovel so she can bury the body."

Neither male said anything for a few moments...until Hyunh face-palmed with a heavy sigh. He knew Bonnie, in spite of all her threats and rough nature, didn't have the willingness to actually kill someone, even with that someone being Oscar.

Still, though, a tiny part of him couldn't help feeling disappointment. He'd been hoping that today would be the last he'd ever see of Oscar.

So much for that wishful thinking...

Shaking his head as he stepped outside and closed his door, Hyunh scooped Milo up in his arms then walked off to find Phil.

"We might as well get him treated before your mutha' follows through on that."


	9. Orphan

**Honestly, life just bites sometimes. :( You'll see what I mean soon.**

* * *

><p><strong>Orphan<strong>

I hate seeing Arnold like this.

He may think no else besides Grandpa and Grandma ever notice how sad he gets.

We notice how very sad he gets when he thinks of them.

We all notice.

I notice.

Yet what could I ever do?

How could I be a father to this boy when I was barely a father all those years ago?

I wish sometimes that Miles and Stella could have stayed instead.

But they are good people, just like their son. It would have been selfish of them to have just let people die.

All this separation—it is so unfair.

Miles and Stella did not deserve this.

Arnold did not deserve this.

Just like how Mai and I did not deserve to be separated...

Arnold's parents are losing the chance to see their boy grow up, just like how I lost my chance.

The worst part...

I completely understand how they feel...and understanding makes me feel as if I am watching myself suffer all over again.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	10. Scar

**Warning: ****Some details here will be a bit graphic. ****I own nothing of Hey Arnold except the characters and elements I thought up myself.**

* * *

><p>"Geez, Hyunh, why ya gotta wear that again?"<p>

Mr. Hyunh turned to Ernie in complete confusion.

Right now, the two men were conversing in the room they shared in the beach house Phil had rented for the week.

Hyunh hummed as if the answer were so obvious, avoiding direct eye contact to make sure his eyes did not betray his words. "B-because… I like this shirt very much."

The burly redhead in suspenders shook his head in genuine disbelief at the weak excuse.

"Ya wear that every time we come up here," the petite redhead pointed out in perplexity and slight irritation. "What's up wit' that?"

Almost immediately, Hyunh's lean body became as erect as a tombstone, his eyes widened and nearly blank. Ernie, however, (he wasn't too sure, of course) could've sworn he saw a spark of something almost...hostile in his friend's eyes.

That spark, if it really _was_ there, didn't last long. Before Ernie could question any further, Hyunh's eyes regained their typical shyness, which seemed a bit forced this time in Ernie's opinion.

"I am not very comfortable with my looks. That is all."

Silence reigned for a few moments as the two men stood across from each other, one gazing at the other in confusion bordering on concern, the other with his face turned away, expression unreadable.

At last, one of them gave in—and it wasn't Mr. Hyunh.

"Whateva' ya say, Hyunhski. I'll, uh, meet ya in the living room when yur ready, 'kay?" muttered Mr. Potts in a defeated sigh.

With nothing more to say, the diminutive man stepped out of the room, closing the door behind quietly and leaving his buddy to his own privacy. Ernie simply shook his balding head as his chest heaved heavily from another sigh, this one as deeply melancholy as the last.

_'__You know, Hyunh, sometimes I really worry about ya.'_

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

Ernie had every reason to.

Hyunh had lied.

The reason the Vietnamese man hid his back from him went deeper—and darker—than he admitted.

Steeling himself, Mr. Hyunh slipped two arms underneath his shirt and removed the article of clothing. With his upper body now bare, he took a deep breath before swiftly rotating his head to gaze into the mirror behind him.

He grimaced the moment his eyes finally landed on the reflection of his lower back, a few centimeters above the base of the spine…

Three, angry-red scars…lengthy…jagged…they looked as if an animal's giant claw had struck him there a long time ago…

Except...most animals strike when they feel threatened or need to fight for something essential for survival...

The animal that delivered those scars was having a good time.

And Hyunh still wanted to murder the animal responsible.

What kind of sick demon delighted in the pitiful writhing brought about by a sharp razor blade, only to be coupled with the merciless kiss of a whip?

Yet what could he, the victim, have ever done to resist?

To be so powerless… could you imagine…

Wondering where the howls begging for the pain to cease are coming from…only to realize the howls are coming from you…the blinding flash of something white-hot assaulting your nerves…the vibrations in your body that made you feel more rubber than human…the sensation of something hot and sticky flowing over your back…only to realize that that something is blood…your blood…

The blood…so much blood…

Sometimes he still recoiled sharply at the memory…almost as if anticipating that same knife to slice into his flesh once more.

There was purpose to Hyunh's reminiscence, though: those scars didn't destroy his pride. They destroyed the submissive man he had once been.

Even after the taunts, the jeers, the lies, the betrayals—all the horrors he had to endure those twenty long years...

Hyunh came out stronger than before.

That's why no one controlled him.

His strong will was his revenge. His payback...

So that monster would _never_ be given the satisfaction.

_'__No one will ever dominate me. Ever again...'_ he reminded himself as he quickly slipped his shirt back on, the incriminating evidence to one of his darkest hours hidden away from the world for what he hoped to be forever.

_'__Besides,' _Hyunh let a dark smirk stretch across his face as he turned and left the room, _'__look at which one of us is still alive.'_

* * *

><p><strong>My writing can get a little hardcore sometimes.<strong>


	11. Unholy

**Honestly...I have no idea where this idea came from.**

* * *

><p><strong>Unholy<strong>

"Arnold?"

Our football headed wonder boy paused in the hallway the second he heard a certain boarder's voice. He turned until he saw a Vietnamese man standing in the entrance to the kitchen.

"Yeah, Mr. Hyunh?"

"What is...that?"

The Asian man, eyes rather expanded, pointed a finger at the picture in the boy's hand.

"Oh right! You see, Mr. Simmons gave us this animal project. Each of us has to give a presentation of an animal we find strange...and, well, I choose the blob fish."

All Arnold got as a response was awkward silence...at least for a few seconds.

"That..._thing_...is a fish?"

The blonde boy reexamined the picture, taking a closer look this time at the bizarre creature in the image.

"I...guess."

All of a sudden, Hyunh, his shoulders hunched, shivered as if a great frigidity took a fierce hold of him.

"That is so...ugh! I cannot even describe it!"

Despite the validity of the older man's statement, Arnold quickly shook his oddly shaped head before replying with a frown,

"But it's endangered, Mr. Hyunh! Sure it's kind of...hard to look at, but no animal deserves to go through extinction."

Sighing in defeat, the foreign fellow rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I suppose you are right, Arnold."

It _was_ rather hard to not feel sorry for animals that were in danger of being wiped out.

Even if those animals' appearances were...well...unholy...and that was being nice.

* * *

><p><strong>Just feel free to go ahead and review.<strong>


	12. Nightmare

**Everyone has to have a moment of weakness, right?**

* * *

><p><strong>KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!<strong>

Who on earth would be awake at this hour?

Biting down a grouchy remark, Mr. Hyunh begrudgingly sat up from his bed and yawn rather noisily. Not even bothering to put on his robe, the disgruntled man stood up and dragged himself sulkily to the door of his room.

'_If that is Oskar, I am going to—'_

Yet the person who was out there after Hyunh opened the door...was not who he had expected.

"Bonnie?"

Who of which, cradling a slumbering Milo in her arms, gave an abashed smile and a bit of a blush...

"Heh...in the flesh..."

Before too long, though, the drowsiness returned to take its rightful place in Hyunh's body, causing the man to hunch forward a bit in slight exasperation at the woman's impromptu greeting.

"Do you know what _time_ it is?" grumbled Hyunh. "People have to sl_ee_p."

Bonnie didn't reply right away. Actually, her eyes' focus drifted away from the man in the doorway to something on her left...which was practically nothing but empty hallway.

When the woman's voice came back, though, the meekness and hesitation were gone. In their place was a firm insistence that almost sent Hyunh backwards a few steps the moment Bonnie's aquamarine eyes landed back on him.

"We can't."

Hyunh raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

'_We? But Milo looks just fine.'_

"Well..._I_ can't," the petite mother corrected in slight embarrassment. She never _was_ the kind of person to openly admit her own weaknesses.

"I wanted to see you," the woman quickly explained in concern, pausing in mid-sentence to yawn a bit, "but I was afraid of leaving Milo all alone so I took him with me."

Ugh, it was too early for this.

In fact, Hyunh, rubbing his eyes, couldn't help sounding irritated when he groaned testily "Bonnie, please, whatever it is, can it not wait until morning?"

The Polynesian replied with a firm shake of the head, the hesitation still present in her voice.

"I-I had a nightmare."

Hyunh...couldn't quite believe his ears.

'_Is she serious?'_

"I do not wish to sound rude...but aren't you... usually able to handle a bad dream?"

Bonnie answered once more, only this time her voice was completely solemn, every trace of awkwardness and hesitation gone. The manner in which she shook her head held more conviction than before.

"Not if it's about Diego..."

There was no more she needed to say. Hyunh's widened eyes proved as much.

"Come in."

Ushering Bonnie in the room, her son still in her arms, Mr. Hyunh led her to the bed. At that point, he coaxed her to give him Milo, which she did.

Now here the three were-Hyunh back on his bed, only now with a child nestled on the right side of his exposed chest and a full-grown woman on the other, right where his heart lay, Bonnie with her arms now wrapped around the mammoth man's waist in a firm embrace, and Milo none the wiser on account of how conked out he still was.

Mr. Hyunh tried his best not to shiver at the contact the young woman's smooth arm made with his bare stomach...or the sensation of her legs bumping against his own. Luckily, he regained some of his self-control to whisper a few choice words.

"Alright, I do not want any loud noises, or drooling, or kicking. Especially no hogging blankets..."

Not wishing to wake her son up (but also not wanting to back down from Hyunh of all people), Bonnie whispered back jokingly,

"Do I look like a full-grown woman to you...or a three-year old?"

Smirking amusedly, Mr. Hyunh replied smartly though still quietly, "Actually more of a disgruntled teen or college student really..."

All that remark got him was an elbow-shot in the ribs...followed by a quick peck on the lips. Bonnie's hold on him tightened as her head and midnight black hair joined those of her son on Hyunh's chest.

"...go back to sleep already."

The Asian fellow grinned mischievously as he gave her a kiss back before wrapping his arms around her and her son protectively.

"Good night...and sweet dreams," he murmured lovingly and contently.

'_I suppose I can let her off the hook...just this once.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Don't forget to review!<strong>


	13. Chaos

**For those of you who don't know who Heirani is, go check out my profile! Otherwise, I only own her. Anything else Hey Arnold-like belongs to Craig and Nickelodeon.**

* * *

><p>"Please, please, eat!"<p>

Seated in a flowery pink high stool, Mr. Hyunh's baby daughter swatted away angrily the spoon of applesauce in her parent's hand then proceeded to resume her crying. This time, however, she turned up the volume, forcing her poor father to cover his ears and cringe at the noise.

'_**Mai **__was never this loud!'_

Then again, this girl wasn't Hue's child; she was Bonnie's baby girl and, boy, did she know how to wail!

'_Bonnie, how do you manage to __**feed**__ this child?'_

Hyunh's own wife _always _got Heirani to eat yet Hyunh himself only met failure instead in trying to do likewise.

Every...single...time...

Being unable to feed his own daughter wasn't the only failure on Hyunh's mind, however. He failed to rock her to sleep, he failed to get her to laugh, and he failed to change her diaper—actually that last failure was one he _especially_ disliked.

No matter what plan he tried, Heirani only seemed to cry more and more and harder and harder, crying as best as she could particularly whenever Mr. Hyunh would simply come near her.

It was almost as if she considered the man's presence a bane to her own existence, leaving said man with only one saddening conclusion:

'_Maybe I am just... a terrible father to her.'_

A terrible and irrational conclusion...? Indeed it was, but, in Mr. Hyunh's eyes, his baby girl's tears seemed to suggest otherwise.

"Oh, who am I kidding?," the man moaned sorrowfully to no one in particular, the bowl of applesauce cast aside on a nearby counter and the spoon left to lay on the spot on the floor where it had landed. He threw his large, lanky arms up in surrender as he sulked to his sofa and looked away from his child shamefully. "I am no father. I am just as terrible of a person to her as I am to Glue Boy."

Ah yes, Glue Boy...the mule Hyunh, Oskar, and Ernie (well mostly Ernie—he _was_ the guy who bought the animal) had mistaken for a horse. To say the least, up until Arnold showed up, getting the mule to be docile had been...painful. _Extremely _painful...

Yet the pain Hyunh felt back then came from the blows and the buckaroos.

This time was different. This time, the agony was coming straight from the sight of a baby crying—_his_ baby crying. Somehow, those tears struck the distraught dad harder and deeper than any kick Glue Boy could _ever_ give.

'_And I deserve it,' _the Vietnamese man believed bleakly. '_No child deserves a disappointment like me.'_

Face in his hands, emotions slowly but surely advancing towards inconsolable lament, Mr. Hyunh practically teetered on the edge of hopelessness...until a tiny voice, like the gentle coo of a dove in a dark, violent storm, broke through his depression.

"Baba...?"

Startled at first, the man eased up the moment he realized his daughter was the one who had spoken, her forest earth eyes gazing at him intently.

"Y-yes... my lotus...?" he asked nervously, still feeling as if he didn't deserve to be looked upon by her. He didn't seem sure whether he deserved to call her "lotus" or even by her actual name anymore.

However, when Heirani asked in her broken English—"Baba...sad?"—there was no spite in her voice, nor anger or shame.

Only frank concern and perhaps even slight guilt...

In great shock that jolted him from his impending sorrow, Mr. Hyunh blinked his eyes slowly, his melancholy-driven mind telling him that the sight of the baby girl's expression simply didn't exist and merely served as a deluded façade to the child's true countenance.

However, even after rubbing his eyes and gazing back upon his daughter after doing so, the Vietnamese father could no longer deny that Heirani's expression was indeed real—_very, very_ real.

'_And she is still talking to me...__**me**__. But why...?'_

Still in deep confusion, Hyunh, now hunched over, still thinking he didn't deserve to look at Heirani, was able to right himself enough to respond timidly but affirmatively,

"Um... yes, Baba _is _sad...very, very sad...but only because he is worried he is a... bad Baba."

'_Which is the truth...the very, very terrible truth...Heirani knows it just as well as I do.'_

So why did she look so sympathetic then? The Vietnamese father simply shook his head and closed his eyes before continuing.

"I know Bonnie and Milo have faith in me, but...," Hyunh opened his eyes back up to look at his daughter

She was staring back at him, listening to every single word coming out of his mouth. Sighing heavily, Mr. Hyunh walked over to the pink high stool where Heirani sat and gently (although a tad reluctantly) picked her up before returning back to the sofa and placing her on his lap.

Two pairs of brown eyes met each other unwaveringly...even as one pair of eyes began to dampen with tears.

And they weren't Heirani's.

"I am just not good enough. I never will be," Hyunh shook his head slowly, frustration at himself replacing the sorrow in milliseconds.

Tears still stained his face, though.

"Fathers make their children feel loved; Fathers make their children smile... Fathers make their children feel safe. Yet every time, I fail to do those things for you. I only upset you and bring tears to your eyes."

Sure enough, Heirani's eyes, like her father's, _did_ moisten at those words, but not for the reason Mr. Hyunh thought. Even if she didn't understand the actual meaning the words or how much they were choking up her father, she could still detect the sadness they carried.

'_I was right,'_ thought Mr. Hyunh in concealed disgust when he caught sight of his daughter's tears. He closed his eyes and looked away as to insure Heirani wouldn't mistake his stare as being intended for her.

'_I only frighten her and I also upset her. What right do I have to be with her and care for her?'_

"You deserve a better father, Heirani. You deserve a father who gives you no reason to hate him. I am sorry."

"NO!"

Jumping a bit from Heirani's sudden shout, Hyunh quickly regained himself before he had a chance to drop his child. Regardless of the slight rocking, the girl's expression, a fierce but concerned scowl, did not waver.

Her now wide-eyed father simply lacked the words to speak coherently; the sudden shock from Heirani's shout had rattled him that badly.

"W-what?" Mr. Hyunh leaned a bit closer, but, remembering his child's ungodly screech from before, kept his ears from getting too close.

The caution made no difference.

"No! NO! NO! NO! NO!" Heirani kept shouting desperately over and over, her head shaking side to side furiously as her tiny hands gripped her father's sky blue shirt. One could practically hear her uproar all the way up to the roof of the boardinghouse!

Mr. Hyunh didn't feel so shocked anymore. He felt full-speed alarmed! There was no telling who would come over to the door to complain about the noise, but...he'd rather prefer that that somebody weren't Oscar...or a certain mother whose husband rather preferred to keep her in a mood that _didn't_ involve anger.

"Shh! Shhhh! Please, my lotus, please! Calm yourself." He had to backpedal a bit in his mind due to the use of the nickname, remembering his hesitation to call Heirani as such.

Tears streaked down the girl infant's pudgy cheeks as she lifted her head to gaze at her Baba's careworn face.

"Ba..ba..." Her tiny voice barely rose above a whisper, but the father, now holding her slightly closer in his arms, detected her distressed tone easily.

He could only shake his head at his child's actions.

'_She does not see big picture here. Then again, why should I expect such from her? She is only so young.'_

"No...listen to me, Heirani! You are only an infant. I know that. Even Mai cried much as a baby. It is only natural for you to cry too...but that is just it. I only make your crying _worse_. It is my entire fault. My entire fault..."

This time, no sound of protest flew from the little caramel girl's lips.

In spite of everything, Mr. Hyunh found the will to smile—at least somewhat.

'_At least...she understands now. I think...'_

But what now...? What in the world would this foreign fellow tell his wife and son? That the newest member of the family "hated his guts with a searing passion"—a quote from the infamous Helga G. Pataki— to the point of not even wishing to occupy the same room as him?

_Once again_...Hyunh sighed forlornly, torn completely between making Heirani happy and doing something right as a father.

'_Not there is not much I can do right as a father...at least not for her...'_

"Ba...Ba...Ba-Baaaa..."

A tiny voice reached the man's ears, prompting him to turn toward his daughter, which he did.

Tears still remained on Heirani's face, but that exact same face now made the girl seem as if she were struggling to communicate a serious message to her parent, but determined to reach out nevertheless.

She was.

"Heirani...?"

A bit unsurely at first, Heirani slowly parted her lips.

"I...I...su...sur..."

What in the world was this girl trying to say?

"So..su-su..so..."

"So...what?" A confused Mr. Hyunh asked softly in trepidation, trying his best to coax the child in his lap to elaborate (or at least elaborate as well as a two-year old could). "What is it?"

"Sur-rie..."

No other words came out of Heirani's mouth, so Mr. Hyunh had only that one strange word to mull over in his head.

''_**Surrie...?' **__It sounds as if she wants to say—'_

Then out of the blue, the meaning behind those words struck Heirani's father like a lightning bolt. Alright, maybe not _that_ hard, but they _still_ surprised him a bit.

"Sorry? You are ...sorry?"

"No cry...no cry, Baba."

Oh... these words...so laced with affection and tenderness...so young and innocent...yet she cared for him...cared for him enough to comfort him...an infant daughter comforting her middle-aged father...

Irony did not lose itself on Hyunh, not that he cared for that in the first place.

In one simple word, Heirani blew away all the dreary doubts and heavy fears burdening him.

Tears, sparkling and translucent, no longer dripped from the eyes of the beaming Vietnamese father.

They cascaded!

'_She cares for me. She __**does**__ love me!'_

Snugly but firmly, Hyunh enveloped his baby girl in his massive arms, a hug from two tiny arms encircling his thick neck. All the while, his nose burrowed deep inside her coal black hair, allowing the man to indulge his senses in the cinnamon scented shampoo Bonnie normally used for Heirani.

"Oh my little lotus...," whispered Hyunh in a loving murmur, his voice muffled by the girl's hair. "Sometimes I do not deserve you."

"Good Baba. Nice Baba..."

He didn't see her smile, but he didn't have to. He knew how happy he'd just made her. And that was enough for him.

"Hmm...so you do not like applesauce, do you?"

Heirani's answer...? A scowl followed by a great big raspberry in her father's face...not that he minded, of course. Not any_more_ at least...

In fact, he gave a hearty giggle that quickly made its way into Heirani. Before long, the two of them were giggling like a pair of complete nuts.

'_Oh well, I never really liked applesauce myself as a boy. Who knows though? Perhaps we will try it again some other day.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Don't forget to review!<strong>


	14. Alone

**This chapter may or may not have been taken from my inspiration by MJ's "You are Not Alone."**

* * *

><p><strong>Alone<strong>

He still dreamt of her sometimes.

Sometimes he'd mistake one the female customers at the restaurant for her.

Sometimes he thinks he'd just heard her tinkling-bell like laugh, only to discover it's only the wind.

But when he looked at Mai...that's when his heart hurt the worst.

For each and every time Mai would smile or laugh, she wasn't the one he'd see.

It was _her._

And her ghost never ceased to haunt him.

Now, alone here in bed, Mr. Hyunh could only sigh after discovering that he'd just tried to make love to his pillow...for the tenth time this month.

There just had to be a way out of this loneliness. He just couldn't bear it anymore!

* * *

><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	15. Rage

**The next one will be unnerving; the second will be...well, read and you'll find out. I don't own Hey Arnold!**

* * *

><p><strong>Rage<strong>

"How did this happen?"

Despondent and forlorn, Mr. Hyunh sighed mournfully as he slouched in his seat of the crimson couch of the boardinghouse living room.

How could one teeny, tiny mistake create such a disaster?

All Hyunh consumed was one bottle of liquor. Okay, maybe he went a bit _above_ one bottle, but the point was what he'd _done_ while he was intoxicated...and the fact that Bonnie was no longer talking to him as a result.

So caught up in his lament, the Vietnamese immigrant never noticed an Eastern-European man, his face sporting receding hair and a beard, both of which were reddish brown, saunter up to him haughtily.

"Heh, heh, heh, I figured it was only a matter of time before you and that crazy lady broke up!"

Of all the—didn't that sleazeball have anything better to do?

"Oscar...not now...Bonnie is upset at me, and right now I am waiting for her come back with Milo so I can apologize to her."

'_I've convinced her that I only see her as piece of meat. What is __**wrong**__ with me?'_

"I...jumped her." Dear heavens, that "j" word truly felt weird on his tongue, even if it did seem appropriate to describe his actions.

"Not on purpose, but still... she is very disappointed in me right now."

Being the inconsiderate slob he was, Oscar merely chuckled snidely at his fellow boarder's plight. Hyunh felt his owns hackles rise in response—a most unusual response for someone usually so meek.

"What did you expect, Mr. Hyunh? Women like her are too paranoid in the first place. To them, being able to do what you please is more important than settling down."

"Oscar..." The voice emanating from Yiang Hyunh was unlike any tone anyone in the Sunset Arms had heard from him.

That voice held a growing touch of distempered malice...as well as a promise of physical altercation.

Oscar was none the wiser.

"And you know what else?"

If only this poor slob knew how dangerously close to the brink the Asian man before him was...

He would have never said what burst from his mouth next.

"I bet that lady wouldn't know love anyway if her own kid ended up just like..."

**WHAM**

In the space of one second, Mr. Hyunh had flew off the couch, his hands finding the front of Oscar's tacky white shirt and driving the smaller man into the wall, which rattled quite badly as a result of the shockwave produced by said collision.

Oscar, however, didn't focus on the pain in the back of his head.

He was too busy trembling (and immediately trying in vain to escape) from the snarling, murderous looking brute that had been Mr. Hyunh a few moments ago. Indeed, up close and personal, Oscar Kokoschka simply couldn't believe that this wild-eyed creature was the same gentle giant who stuttered and stumbled on his own sentences, cried actual tears publicly, or blushed and chuckled nervously whenever a certain islander winked at him.

Oh no...Now he was a just a giant...an extremely _livid _giant... who which now had the pale Kokoschka at his mercy.

"You do not know **one** damn thing about **love**!"

He didn't know what **sacrifice** felt like.

He didn't know what **20 years** of loneliness spent in the remnants of war felt like.

He didn't know what the sight of a loved one **dying**...body still as stone...earth red from blood...felt like.

He just didn't **know**.

All he knew was how to care for his own well-being.

Needless to say, Oscar wasn't doing a fine job of even _that_.

...Except now, the more Mr. Hyunh thought, the more he realized: _'What am I doing?'_

Was this the sort of man Bonnie wanted— an aggressive brute that could easily fly off the handle and, whether intentionally or not, bring serious, unnecessary harm?

A man like that was no better than a selfish money-grubber...even worse.

Then there came another thought: _'I believe in her.'_

Suddenly, Hyunh's temper slowly but surely cooled, as did his grip on Kokoschka loosen.

'_I believe she is good person. I believe she can forgive. I believe she is wonderful enough...to protect, even if from the truth.'_

Yes, yes...yes, he had so much faith in her...and who was to say _she_ wouldn't have the faith in her to believe that he'd make up for his mistake and reconcile with her—all for the sake of their love...for her?

'_Yes,'_ the Asian man's mind whispered tenderly. A small, content smile arose on his face. His brown eyes no longer regarded Oscar or their environment, but rather some paradise far off in the distance...or perhaps closer and more real than imagined and approaching.

All Hyunh needed to do was regain trust.

'_My love...I will make it up to you. I will.'_

All of a sudden, Yiang Hyunh noticed the pale-faced Oscar still on the floor where he'd been unintentionally deposited, cradling himself in case of another traumatic attack.

Not quite another attack...actually, the Vietnamese man, due to his impassioned resolve, now considered the matter of dealing with this flea too trivial now—or even better—trivial _indefinitely_.

"Get out of my sight..._now._" No argument allowed with that kind of tone—the seemingly out-of-character yet shockingly deep, rolling voice held enough authority to perhaps even make Helga Pataki rethink some decisions.

So did the Vietnamese man's eyes, their proverbial fire threatening—no, promising...well, Oscar fled the room before he could ever find out.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review!<strong>


	16. Traitor

**This part proved a little difficult for me to write. I don't own Hey Arnold!**

* * *

><p><strong>Traitor<strong>

"Olga, do you love Helga?"

"Of course, I do, silly! She's my baby sister."

This young woman...how could she be so grown already...yet still seem so innocent?

She is not even in my sight as I speak. She at least knows who is speaking to her, though. We are, after all, sitting right next to each other in the kitchen of the boardinghouse.

"And you'd be willing to do anything for her...yes?" Was there shaking in my voice? No, just my mind playing tricks on me again...

Or perhaps it _was _real? No, no, no, it is just nerves! My old age!

Olga, when I finally look at her, though, seems nervous, too. Her voice reflects her feelings very, very well.

"W-well, yes, I certainly wouldn't want to lose her."

This time, I know my voice is shaking. It is...creeping past my tongue. It is...slipping from my mouth and bubbling into the air.

"Even if—if she was..."

My feelings cannot take much more. I have to look away.

I have to leave.

"Mr. Hyunh...is something the matter?"

"I am sorry. I have to go."

And so I get up and leave her right there in the kitchen...her confused at my actions and a bit scared by my words.

* * *

><p>There was a reason for asking her.<p>

I had a brother once. He was my younger brother. My brother, he looked up to me. Yes, he annoyed me at times but that is what siblings do, yes?

We loved each other very much. He told me that he wanted to be just like me when he became older.

Me, I was his hero.

I was also his traitor.

Before the fighting came to Saigon, he joined the army for Ho Chi Minh, and wanted me to come with him.

I refused.

Both of us had a rather shaky hold on English back then, but what we said to each other was, more or less, this:

'_Brother, we have to do this. Mr. Minh could be just what our country needs!'_

'_No! Listen to me! You will just get yourself killed! There is a better way out of this!'_

'_Better way? What better way, brother? You think that damn president we had was able to fix everything? And those Americans...do you think they'll care who's the enemy and who is not? They couldn't tell the elephant grass from the trees. Even you and I cannot tell who is fighting who!'_

'_My brother...'_

_He rested his brown eyes on me. I kept my same-colored eyes on him. _

'_**That**__ is why we cannot join this war. Do you not see what our home is becoming?'_

_Can't he? _

'_It is becoming a field for honor and freedom, brother!'_

_My mind felt so numb after I heard those words. I had nothing to say. How far had the lust for battle taken him? All I could do was shake my head at him._

'_It is becoming a bloodbath.'_

_Now it was his turn to say nothing. In all honesty...his silence frightened me._

'_Yiang...what happened to you?'_

_That question made my hackles rise in indignant suspicion._

'_What are you talking about?'_

_My brother pounced on that suspicion._

'_Do you not care what happens to our home? What about our families? What about __**your**__ family? Do you not want to protect them?'_

_How dare him..._

_How—__**dare**__—him!_

_It took me everything I had not to strike him for that question!_

'_Yes, I want to protect my family, but—'_

_My words drown in his shouts, his voice rising, rising, and rising over mine...until I just knew even our late grandfather could hear him._

'_But? __**But!**__ There should be no need for 'buts'! Listen to me. Our half of Vietnam is not going to win. I can already see that. Plainly, you can see that as well!'_

_No more words came from me._

'_Yiang...Yiang...? Say something! At least say yes!'_

_Once more, I gave only silence. There was nothing else I could say. And the longer the silence, the more and more did the last shred of innocence fade from the eyes of the younger man before me..._

'_I cannot believe this. I cannot believe __**you**__. You are my __**brother**__! You are supposed to be there for me. I looked up to you. I believed in you. Even after we grew up, I still looked to you for advice. Now ...now I see that the man I knew is dead. This time...I __**finally **__see you for what you truly are. Fine. I see how it is.'_

_How much...how much more did I have to take?_

_First all my cousins, then my father...now..._

'_Please...I do not want to lose—'_

'_Shut it.' There is no longer compassion in his voice. Only cold stone..._

'_If you lack the guts to stand up for what is right... then wait for the soldiers to pick you off...with the rest of the cowards. Goodbye...__**traitor**__.'_

_I remained in silence. Only after the shadows of the trees swallowed my younger sibling—my only sibling— did I finally mutter out, voice full of heartbreak,_

'_Goodbye...my dear brother.'_

_Alone and abandoned, I collapsed onto my knees._

_No gunshot could rival the quaking of my body that joined my tears._

* * *

><p>He was right. We were <em>both<em> right actually.

North Vietnam did win, just as he expected.

He also perished in battle, just as _I_ expected... I still cried.

I still cried for him.

I cried for the man who will never see his niece smile at him.

I cried for the man who lost faith in his own family.

I cried for the man I had guided ever since childhood.

Yes, I also cried for the man who turned his back on me, the war swallowing him up like a furnace swallows wood.

And the only memory I have left of him is that dark, dark scowl, a scowl full of so much hate.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please...<strong>


	17. Lint

**Seriously, there had to be **_**somebody**_** who saw this coming! XD**

* * *

><p><strong>Lint<strong>

"This lint—_your_ lint—you are not following the rules!"

What does he think he is?

What does he think I am—his personal maid?

Lint is lint.

Lint is dirt.

Dirt is neglect.

I do not tolerate neglect, not when I need to wash clothes.

Even Milo knows better. And this boy is two years older than him!

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hyunh. I'll remember tomorrow."

Tomorrow...? Oh, I see, another Oscar in making...

Well, if this boy wants to live here, then he bettah shape up soon!

"You bettah. I cannot clean up after you! I am not your muddah!"

Yes, young man, this house is no palace! You want place here? You want to be treated like grown-up? Then take care for yourself like one!

"I need a walk."

Good, some time alone will get you to set your priorities in order.

But still—

"I'm not his muddah!"


	18. Kiss

**Just more of my plain, old, honest randomness again! Still don't own Hey Arnold! (goes off to grumble in a corner)**

* * *

><p><strong>Kiss<strong>

To be honest, he wasn't sure how it would feel at first.

No, he vaguely remembers kissing his own wife, back in Vietnam.

He's pretty sure the experience with her had at least been pleasant, if not pleasurable.

Much to his chagrin, though, all his aging mind could conjure up at best was a cloudy memory, like a fogged up car window.

Maybe he expected this kiss to taste sweet.

Maybe he expected his own insides to melt down and slosh around in his body.

All he knew what to expect had been based on what Diego had described to him about kissing someone.

He just didn't know the feeling of intimacy with _this_ woman would be so different, so...energizing.

The moment his lips met hers, his whole body reacted as if it had just received a heavy shock! Well, except shocks certainly didn't make you feel like you were on cloud nine...because that's where the kiss had just taken Mr. Hyunh.

Without even knowing what he was doing, the lean Vietnamese pushed his tongue further past the woman's well rounded lips. Two ham-sized hands caressed her face as two smaller, nimble hands did the same to his.

He giggled into her mouth as her hands began to playfully pinch his cushiony cheeks, her thumbs caressing the ends of his impassioned smile.

She giggled into his mouth back as her obsidian ocean hair flowed through his surprisingly soft hands, thick fingers curling and uncurling strands before sliding down to her slim shoulders, never breaking contact with the skin.

The taste...the moist, warm texture...the delight of teasing movement...the heat of her body...

He didn't mind that he had to crane his neck all the way down just to meet her face. In fact, he rather relished doing such an action as it only seemed to make the bliss and passion so much more fun.

In fact, without a single thread of trepidation, Mr. Hyunh fearlessly withdrew his hands from the woman's shoulders, only to immediately trap her waist in a fervently fierce embrace.

A squeak of surprise was all the motivation Hyunh needed not to break the intimacy.

In a moment of pure ecstasy, this enthralled man twirled on one foot, swinging his newfound lover in his gorilla arms as he did. Old war injuries moaned and flared up, begging him to stop at once...

He paid them no mind at all.

With a kiss like this, the pain was _beyond_ worth it.


	19. Sick

**Okay, I'm going to just say what I feel like what needs to be said: I will finish this work! I can't help it! It's been my mind for quite a while! Therefore, I'm going to get "The Life and Times of Mr. Hyunh done as quickly as I can!**

* * *

><p><strong>Sick<strong>

What word could possibly describe how miserable were the three people before the girl in red?

Agonized...?

Tormented...?

Wretched...?

Been through hell and back...?

Well in _Rhonda's_ viewpoint...

'_I think—I'm going—to retch.'_

Sure enough, Rhonda's thought did have some valid justification...a tiny bit...

Of the three ill folks before Rhonda, the towering Asian man, even squatting, stood above all of them. His peach skin seemed pale from the illness and his brown-iris eyes, even behind his square spectacles, looked absolutely bloodshot. His disheveled, wavy, midnight black hair stuck out in all directions like frantic ocean waves frozen in time. Dripping phlegm nasally and shaking in his dark blue robe, light blue boxers, and pink bunny slippers, the poor man went into another violent coughing fit, one that sent quite a bit of mucus—visible yellow and green in fact—flying onto the floor.

Behind the hacking sneezer, however, the woman and the boy with him seemed deceptively better off than him.

The sepia-toned woman—Ms. Bonnie Mahana, if Rhonda recalled correctly according to the conversation she had heard her mother having with this lady—stood with her back against the wall, her eyes closed, lean arms crossed, a meditative frown on her face, and only an occasional soft, feminine sneeze escaping her nose, not at all like the violent explosions coming from her Asian companion. Her rippling black locks looked only slightly ruffled. She was dressed in a simple light grey night shirt and jogging pants of the same hue, light blue slippers on her dainty feet. If standing, she would have only have been a head taller than the Lloyd child.

Last but certainly not least, was a person Rhonda definitely did not anticipate on seeing: Milo!

In contrast to the two standing adults, the young boy, short, black hair more tousled than usual, was seated on the floor, his little knees curled up to him and wrapped around by his arms. Hunching over his knees, Milo, currently donning a mismatching colored set of light blue shirt with light grey pants, made nearly no noise at all. Better yet, whenever a sneeze came on the verge of escaping him, he would swiftly bring his face up to either one of his upper arms, right where the snot and the accompanying noise would catch into the sky azure fabric.

Granted, these three certainly appeared as if they had all seen better days. On the other hand, they could have gotten off with appearances much worse than the ones they had presently.

Just the trio's luck, though, Mr. Hyunh took the task of explanation upon himself.

"We have very bad chest colds. Very contagious...Need to make a call?"

What else could Rhonda Wellington Lloyd—daughter of the _formerly_ distinguished Buckley and Brooke Lloyd—do besides dash away in utter disgust and horror? The girl was gone in the blink of an eye.

So what else could Bonnie, still leaning against the wall, do besides a sour look at the hulking sick man behind her?

"Fantastic...Now we're striking terror into the hearts of millions...," became her sarcastic comment, although thanks to the cold her voice came out a bit comically and nasally.

Amazingly, Mr. Hyunh looked even more miserable than before after hearing those words. Her words had truly cut him deep.

'_It is not like I intended for this all to happen!'_

"For the last time...I am...I—am—"

ACHOO went Mr. Hyunh again. Bonnie, despite being already sick enough as she is, still blocked the incoming spittle from her face with her arms. She fixed her man with a cold stare.

Her ill Asian boyfriend only gave a sheepish grin and a meek shrug.

"Sorry..."


	20. Family

**More is on the way and I still don't own Hey Arnold!**

* * *

><p><strong>Family<strong>

"You must be Rockwell. Yes, I've heard of you. Is that the family?"

Oh, I cannot bear to hear this!

Family, family, family—that is all my boss care about!

Is it not enough that I am loyal?

Is it not enough that I am good cook?

Why must Mister Camacho think family as important to being a chef?

That is no different from calling the people you love trophies! Does he not realize that? Does he?

Oh, why must I care? I have no family. Yes, there is Mai but...all those years apart...

Can I really call myself her father?

Perhaps not, but I can call myself coward. I do not even have courage to tell the woman I love how I feel, much less even hug her and her son.

I am no father.

I am no man.

I am only old coward. An old, lonely coward...


	21. Monster

**Right now, I'm just trying to play around with some character development. Mr. Hyunh belongs to Craig and Nickelodeon!**

* * *

><p><strong>Monster<strong>

Look at me.

How different am I from the man you once knew?

The people with me this time know nothing of the man I once was.

That man had been weak and submissive.

No, the man among these people now—he is monster.

I am monster.

I had lost all I thought could lose.

You could say I could have easily taken my own life to join the others.

No, I made myself into something unspeakable.

I turned into something horrifying.

I turned into something with bloodlust.

Until I woke up...now I dream nightmares of what I had done.

I dream of being my own victim.

And now I want nothing more than to go back.


	22. Bliss

**I own nothing that is canon to Hey Arnold!**

* * *

><p><strong>Bliss<strong>

I always loved the watah.

Time seems so slow here.

A dark comfort below me, a shining comfort above me...

Something that embraces me everywhere...like an omnipresent lovah...

...So cool to the touch...

...So easy to die in here...

...Yet so easy to feel safe...

The feeling of bliss is so sinful.


	23. Plane

**Plane**

One time in such a monstrosity was more than enough!

He had survived countless bullets and bombs.

He had seen deaths occur in ways that would haunt him for eternity.

And most of all, he had survived 20 long years of hoping, hoping, and hoping...only to be denied every chance for escape.

So imagine the cruel irony of everything if he had somehow died en route to America all because of a plane acting up.

Every tumble, boom, rattle, and shake automatically felt like a jolt, a warning. To this day, he still marveled at the fact that he hadn't died from a heart attack!

If there hadn't been other people from his own country who had been familiar with such a monster, he seriously doubts he would have survived.

In short, the whole trip in the air had been one living aerial nightmare.

Maybe that's why Bonnie and Milo always have to drag him with his fingernails digging into the ground every time the three are about to board a plane.


	24. Peach

**Tell me if this work isn't descriptive enough. I'd really like to improve with my descriptions.**

**Oh, and Mr. Hyunh belongs to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon.**

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Peach<strong>**

"Okay, I will leave big slice just for you."

A few more indistinguishable noises were all that could be heard in the hallway besides an Asian man's velvety, airy voice.

A soft, gentle smile soon graced the man's lips as he cooed, "I love you, too."

Then there went the phone, back on the stand.

And there went Mr. Hyunh (or soon-to-be Mr. Mahana) strolling back into the boardinghouse kitchen, smiling as if he owned the world!

Well he _had _owned the kitchen last night (Gertie had, at Bonnie's suggestion, even after a near disaster with Olga's rich, gourmet cooking, agreed surprisingly easily to letting the boarders—even Oscar (with supervision in his case of course)—come up with meals of their own for the next two weeks).

That part at least counted for_ something_, right?

Anyway, the lean Vietnamese man seated himself in between his future son and Arnold while Gertie and Ernie decked out the table with today's dessert—homemade peach pie that Ernie's auntie used to bake for him and his sisters when they were kids.

Mr. Hyunh had to admit. The pie appeared surprisingly scrumptious, and, if the smell was any further indication, then he had a feeling there would no disappointment with dessert!

"Wow! Mr. Potts, this looks amazing!" Indeed, Arnold couldn't help the honest smile that sprang onto his lips at the thought of the glimmering, golden peach slices hidden beneath the pie's flaky, beige crust.

Ernie smirked smugly at the complement as he sat down on the other side of the football-headed tyke.

"Hey, thanks kid! Auntie Marge used ta make the best peach pies this side of the Bronx! I didn't go through one day as a kid without wishin' she'd visit again just so she'd make more of the stuff! So one day I asked her if she could teach me and she did."

The diminutive American gestured to the pie now being served. "Now I can enjoy a little piece of my childhood wheneva' I want!"

Milo gave a simple smile to himself at the thought of being able to keep a part of your own childhood with you. Maybe he could do that with some of his toys.

"I bet Lola would love this stuff!" The tinier, sepia child chirped.

Arnold nodded in full agreement. "Yeah, you should make her some of this someday!"

A faint blush materialized on the normally tough-as-nails demolition worker's cheeks at the suggestion. He rubbed the back of his balding head sheepishly. "Uh...heh, heh...r-right..."

Hyunh had to chuckle to himself a bit at his friend's embarrassment at such a romantic proposal. Five months had his bantam friend been dating the giant beauty model Lola...and yet he still blushed at even the slightest mention of him showing affection to his girlfriend.

'_Then again...I __**am**__ thinking in terms of how quickly __**Bonnie and I**__ have come in our own relationship. We are not exactly most normal as far as most couples go.'_

Nope, they were far from normal! In fact, heck, they were almost as kooky as Arnold and Helga as far as love went!

Putting the comparison in his mind aside, Mr. Hyunh raised a fork and began to chow down on the delicious slice in front of him. After a few chews, however, a sad look began to cross the Vietnamese man's face.

"Dad," squeaked out Milo's voice in concern, the boy having noticed his guardian/soon-to-be-father's face. "Is something wrong with the pie?"

The middle-aged fiancé shook his head at his child's question. "No, no...It is just...I only wish your mudda were here instead of the library. She sounded so rushed when I called her."

Milo gave off a sympathetic look as he shrugged his shoulders.

"I blame that head librarian. She has _got_ to be related Ursula somehow," he commented before returning to his food. "Anyway, Dad, come on... you know how much Mom hates to miss dinner."

"Yes," Hyunh gave a wistful sigh and beamed tranquilly as he stared off into space. "It is one of those times meant for family."

His son, on the other hand, seemed to be thinking otherwise.

"Actually, in your case it would be the time meant for passing little love notes under the table while trying to play footsies with her whenever you think nobody's looking..." the dark-toned boy casually corrected. A smirk soon followed on his face, "...but your answer works, too."

This time, Mr. Hyunh had to be the one to blush and stutter at a romantically suggestive innuendo. He stretched his collar in spite of the room temperature being at a comfortable level.

"Uh...w-w-well, um...I just do not want her to miss out on tasting the pie. That is all! I would hate to miss seeing her face light up when she takes her first bite."

No answer came out of Milo this time. _'Oh good, at least his teasing has stopped...,'_ the Vietnamese man thought in relief. There was only so much "poking of one's buttons" that one man could take. It was bad enough the poking had been coming from his very own future son.

"Yeah, it _would_ suck if she missed this...along with whatever aftertaste you end up with afterwards..."

Milo tried his best not to choke on his own piece at the sight of his now wide-eyed prospective father going beet red!

* * *

><p><strong>Don't forget to review!<strong>


	25. Belong

**Mr. Hyunh does not belong to me! (Unfortunately...)**

* * *

><p><strong>Belong<strong>

The flames, they always the same...

Every spark that flies away is like person who has vanished from my life.

My neighbors...

My old friends...

My parents...

My siblings...

My wife...

My daughter...

I still remember their voices exactly. Their voices always haunt me. They always haunt my dreams.

They remind me how alone I am.

They remind me how I will die...alone.

No matter where I go, no matter how warm the fire is, no matter how many people are around me or how happy they are...

I have no place.

Not here, not back home...I am mere dust.

And dust has no place to belong...

Who would ever care for what does not belong?


	26. Hair Gel

**Mr. Hyunh, Phil, and Gertie belong to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon. This part is based on a similar incident with a classmate of mine who was also Vietnamese.**

* * *

><p><strong>Hair Gel<strong>

Something was different about him...Phil just couldn't put his finger on _what_.

Maybe the moustache...

'_Naw, that can't be it.'_

Maybe the clothes...

'_Nope, same as always...'_

Then what...what the Gatsby was so particular about Mr. Hyunh today that Grandpa Phil couldn't help noticing yet wasn't able to pick up on?

This man sounded like Hyunh, talked like Hyunh, acted like Hyunh...heck, he even _complained _like Hyunh!

Except something just kept seeming off!

'_Oh Jiminy Crickets, just forget it!' _Phil silently sighed to himself in personal defeat before returning his attention back to his country-style eggs and bacon. (His wife Gertie was on a Western rampage this morning by the way.)

Speaking of Gertie...

The kooky (though secretly sharp) elderly woman swaggered in with her ten gallon cowboy hat and a blue bowl decorated with longhorns and cattle spurs, the bowl fill of hearty, down to earth chili bean soup.

For some weird reason, though, she did something she rarely ever did: she stopped.

Yes, that's right—stopped!

S—T—O—P—P—E—D!

Stopped—and right there beside Mr. Hyunh of all people!

Phil, however, barely had time to raise a bushy eyebrow at his wife's out-of-character behavior before she raucously exclaimed with an interested look,

"Why Ranger Pecos— Y'all's hair's looking slicker than a rattlesnake skin in molasses!"

Spit take, thy name is Phil, because that old geezer spat his orange juice all across the table—and into a disgruntled Oscar's face by the way (not that Phil cared at the moment—or ever would for that matter).

'_How the Sam Hill could I have missed __**that**__?'_


	27. Honey

**Mr. Hyunh belongs to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon. Madagascar belongs to Dreamworks. Milo belongs to me.**

* * *

><p><strong>Honey<strong>

"_Darn you! Darn you all to heck!"_

'_He almost as dramatic as Oscar!'_

Oh well, at least Alex also knew how to be lovable, too! That was far more than what anyone could ever say for Oscar, even Arnold. Granted, Hyunh was certain he himself would have no doubt have gone insane at the point that lion and his friends were.

'_Still...I do not see point in acting like that.' _(1)

"Hey, Dad?" A meek, tender voice reached into the Asian man's ears and caught his attention.

Mr. Hyunh made a faint "hmm" as he shifted his vision from the movie to his newly christened stepson. The darker-skinned child sitting in his lap was staring up at him with inquisitive emerald green eyes. His little arms held a vice grip on a worn sketchbook.

"Yes, Milo?"

The addressed tilted his head in curiosity. "How did you get the name we call you?"

The Vietnamese father scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "What name?"

Milo resisted the urge to chuckle at his father's expression and instead shook his head amusedly, an action that made his unruly black hair swish back and forth. "Pooh—how did you get the name 'Pooh'?"

Hyunh's eyebrows finally released themselves and sprung all the way up his forehead. "You want to know about _that_?"

His future son nodded. The father merely gave an amused look as the jungle beats of Marty's Cabana played in the background.

"You have been calling me that evah since birth...and _now _you wish to speak of it?"

Milo only shrugged as a manner of saying "I guess so."

"I just love honey!" (2)

* * *

><p><strong>(1) Yeah right... –_–<strong>

**(2) It's that simple.**


	28. Miracle

**Miracle**

The front door of the boardinghouse swung open, letting in cold, blustery wind, and two familiar—and forlorn—faces. The owners of those saddened faces—two nine year old boys, one African American, the other golden-toned and football-headed—sighed heavily before hearing the sound of slow footsteps coming their way.

The source made itself know in no time. A smaller, sepia-colored boy with unruly, black hair poked his head out from behind inquisitively from the other end of the hall before meekly stepping out and walking right up to Arnold and Gerald.

There was a no smile on Milo's face, but that fact accounted for the reality that the boy had accepted a long time ago, unbeknownst to Arnold and Gerald, of course, being that the two were understandably far too lost in their sorrow to notice.

'_You didn't make it,'_ instantly came to the boy's mind, even though his face remained mellow in its solemn lack of expression.

"You're back." Milo's voice held a distinct evenness in it.

Unaware of that evenness, Arnold only shook his head. The reality of his and Gerald's failure hung _that_ heavily on the two of them. "We blew it, Milo."

The addressed child held no trace of the anger or disappointment they anticipated on his face. Much to Arnold and Gerald's surprise, there was more of a sobriety in Milo's eyes, a sobriety full of sad wistfulness...and expectancy?

Arnold shook his head of the thought, dismissing it as a result of too deep observation. However, he found himself almost wishing he hadn't done as such. He would have welcomed any thought as a distraction from explaining the painful truth.

For the sake of his despondent friend, Gerald quickly did the explaining instead.

"Some guy at the Federal Office of Information had us do some late Christmas shoppin' for him. He said he'd help us find Mai if we'd got everything on the list for him." Gerald shook his head in frustration at the lunaticity of such a task.

Regardless, the football-headed hero continued for his friend, his voice soft and still laden with shattered hope.

"And all it took to stop us was a bunch of dumb snow boots...I'm sorry, Milo." _'If he hates us right now—hates __**me**__ at least—I can't say I blame him.'_

Thankfully...Arnold's heart-wrenching thoughts went unfulfilled.

"Don't be."

Both eyes of both older boys widened; one pair losing its annoyance, the other its melancholy.

Arnold and Gerald, eyebrows raised and heads cocked in baffled unison,

"What?"

"Don't be sorry. I'm not upset...," Milo even shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I'm not _as_ upset as I thought I _would have_ been."

Arnold was just lost at this point. "_Would_ have been...? Milo, what are you—"

The small boy immediately gestured for the older children to sit down with him on the wooden floor.

Backs against the wall, the trio resumed Milo's explanation for his unexpected words.

His voice came softly but audibly. "Something happened to Mr. Hyunh while you guys were gone."

Immediately, the minds of the two older boys snapped to the worst possible case scenario they could conjure up.

Gerald, eyes wide, almost gulped but held himself, beginning to pale at whatever implication his mind had automatically concluded.

Arnold, to his own credit, maintained his own composure. Anxiety, however, still ate at his insides, and couldn't be hidden even under the quiet, gentle tone he assumed with his next words.

"What happened to him?"

Milo, in contrast, remained perfectly calm (albeit a bit contemplative in expression). "What do you call those moments when you realize something that shakes you to the core?"

Taken a bit back by the strange question, Arnold and Gerald only looked at each other in confusion, their premature fears forgotten, before the latter turned back to the younger boy and replied in an unsure tone,

"Uh...you mean epiphanies, right?"

"Yeah, those...! And Mr. Hyun—Poo...Da—"

Why was Milo struggling so much to mention Mr. Hyunh? With each name on the verge of being spoken, the child abruptly ceased in mid-word, scrunched his thick eyebrows together, and frowned... almost as if he could no longer decide which name was proper anymore.

Odd...usually, the boy just stuck to calling the man either "Mr. Hyunh" or more often "Pooh." Whatever had happened to change _that _habit, that "whatever" must have been immense!

And then there was that D word, the start of which had likewise met the same oral roadblock as well.

Arnold, having known Milo since the little one's birth, blinked in wonderment at such a development.

'_What __**did**__ happen while Gerald and I were gone?'_ Only one way to find out...but there was no telling _what _would come of out Arnold's inquiry.

"Milo..."

The "older brother's" mature voice nudged Milo out of his thoughts and back to reality.

"Yeah, Arnold...?"

"What happened while we were gone?" The older blonde asked quietly and coaxingly. For some reason or another, Milo's eyes glossed over as they turned away from the blonde. The unruly-haired youth seemed to be deep in rumination with his memories, frowning pensively as he did.

'_Please Milo? We just wanna know. __**I **__just wanna know.'_

"He came to talk to me. Mom was with me, too." The phantom of a smile flickered on Milo's face for a moment before his "thinking" frown returned.

"Then he took her upstairs so they could be alone. He wanted to talk about Mai. I think...he wanted to talk about us, too—himself, Mom, and me."

"Guys...," he uttered, pausing to give Arnold and Gerald a firm look that lasted one long second before he finally continued to speak again.

"He's done. He's done looking for her."

Nothing on either nine-year old's face changed. Their voices suggested differently.

"W-what?" Indeed, Arnold couldn't help the utter shock that gave his voice a slight tremble as he spoke. He swore he hadn't heard right.

"He's _done_, Arnold. No more searching for Mai." There was no hard irritation in Milo's voice when that emphasis had been made. He only delivered said news as he feels reality would have done: straight to the point and without skipping a beat.

'_He...he's done? So...he gave up? No more searching? E-even...even after all these years...?'_

Just like...that?

Arnold said nothing. There was _nothing_ he could say. What _could _he ever say? Gerald, however...

The tall-haired companion shot up from his place on the floor and fixed Milo with a stare of disbelief that soon gave way to a cross between righteous rage and even a touch of disgust!

"WHAT? B-but what about—and Mai—why would—why did he—? Okay, that guy had _better_ have a good excuse for all this!"

Arnold sent a glare in Gerald's direction, effectively shutting his friend up though not eliminating the searing glare that still lingered on the Keeper of the Tales' face. This football-headed young man did not want his "little brother" strangling the tall-haired nine-year old all because of a misunderstanding.

Still, the football-headed young man couldn't help but feel a tad...not so much outraged, unlike Gerald, as much as rather...disappointed.

'_Mr. Hyunh gave her up and kept saying how he'd never stop trying to find her. Now he just turns around and says he's done? Why?'_

Meanwhile, Milo, in contrast to Arnold's fears, didn't seem the least bit in the mood to strangle. He even nodded to Gerald's words, ignoring the older boy's accusatory and disbelieved tone altogether.

"He does." Reaching a hand into one of his pockets and pulling it out, Milo, without even looking in anyone's direction though still keeping that blankly solemn countenance, produced a small photo and handed it to Arnold.

"I found this in a newspaper article Grandpa was reading earlier today."

Curiosity at this unexpected new piece of information overdrove Arnold and Gerald's negative thoughts towards a certain boarder as the two older boys, eyebrows raised, took a gaze at the picture and description in the former's mitten-covered hands.

They swore their eyes had been lying to them for the first few seconds!

Right there in bold letters as the headline above the picture, said:

"**Congratulations, Graduates of Evergreen College and Receivers of the Ultimatum Awards"**

Right below the headline, a thorough list of the candidates' names could be found and, sure enough, Mai's own name could be found among them!

There was even a colored image of a group of college students cheering and throwing their graduate caps in the air in pure jubilance...and among them was a young, vibrant woman of Asian descent who could have easily passed off as a younger, female version of Mr. Hyunh!

Unbelievable!

Arnold shot up in pure joy at the find!

'_This...this is fantastic!'_ He grinned with a brightness that put the stars to shame.

'_He did it. Our man Milo did it!' _Gerald, all anger towards the Vietnamese man now gone, pumped a fist in the air at what he considered to be the tyke's greatest triumph yet!

Arnold spun around in place to face his younger brother, right on the verge of giving the young one a full, hearty congrats! "Milo, I-I can't believe this! Do you know what this _means_?"

No answer came in return. In fact, when Arnold looked back at Milo, the boy seemed rather pensive again...dejected even.

Then it clicked.

'_Oh...right...'_

Guilt and sympathy quickly replaced the euphoria that had been in Arnold mere moments ago. He just now realized a very crucial drawback to this discovery: not everyone would end up with a happy ending.

The seven-year old sitting before him was a prime example.

Gerald, though just as familiar with the extent of the status of the relationship between Milo and Mr. Hyunh as was his best friend, sighed heavily before putting a hand on the shoulder Milo had closest to him.

'_We've just hafta face facts here.'_

"Hey man, we finally got a lead on Mr. Hyunh's daughter, all thanks to you! You should be happy!"

For a half of a nanosecond, Milo had felt the indescribable urge to just sock Gerald in the nose and scream.

Just...scream...scream how none of this was fair...about how come Mai gets to have Pooh when she'd never even seen him for over twenty years—twenty _stinking_ years...or how the distraught child wanted to cry at the possible loss of his...his...

No...The feeling of anger, as stated before, lasted only half a nanosecond.

'_It just wasn't meant to be, okay, kid? Might as well just let the man have what he wants, right?'_

Especially if it would make Pooh really, really happy...

Milo closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

'_I really...really...__**really**__ hate moral conflicts.'_

"I _am _happy, Gerald...'cept a part of me can't stop feeling sad."

"Why?"

'_Because I love my Dad-to-never-be __**more**__ than I hate the idea of losing him...'_

A moment of hesitation came to pass afterwards, a time during which Milo twiddled his thumbs and alternated gazes from Gerald to an Arnold nodding in silent support...until finally leaving his sights on the former.

"I don't know if you'll be able to understand."

To that statement, Gerald merely crossed his arms and gave a firm but compassionate glare that read _'Try me.'_

All or not...the choice was very simple.

Milo sighed heavily but slowly. _'Welp...here goes...' _He shifted his vision to a patient, stern-faced Gerald.

"All I gave him was another picture of Mai. Even to somebody my age, it's obvious that one piece of paper won't be enough for him. That's why I said he was done looking for her. Now that he at least has a clue as to how she's doing, he'll want to be where_ she_ is."

His voice dropped out to a heartbroken whisper. "He'll wanna leave."

Gerald's face, stony at first, had gradually softened to the point of matching Arnold's saddened expression throughout Milo's forlorn but unfortunately also realistic and plausible explanation.

"Hey man, listen...you did the right thing showing this to him. You gave that guy hope, something that sounds like he's been losing for a while." The tall-haired youth put a hand to his heart when he said the word "hope."

Through all the melancholy, the addressed lad managed to at least nod in agreement.

"I know, Gerald...and...no matter how much I'll miss him...I just want him to be happy...just like how Mom wants him to be happy...just like how he made _us _happy...I can't the stand the idea of Mom and me keeping him torn apart between us and the family he wants back."

"Milo..." Another warm hand reached the youth's right shoulder...but it was neither Arnold's nor Gerald's.

Though initially startled by the unexpected contact, Milo quickly threw off the shock when he soon recognized the broad hand touching him...as well as the deep voice that accompanied it.

"Is something wrong?"

Time slowed to a crawl. Milo couldn't even tell whether his own heart had stopped or not. Everyone seemed to feel sudden tension that had heightened following Mr. Hyunh's entrance.

'_Can I...really tell him?'_

"T-things...just things..."

Yet even someone as slow as Harold could have seen through such thinly veiled vagueness; Mr. Hyunh was far from being an exception. "Would these things...have anything to do with _me_ by any chance?"

Silence said everything. Realizing there was no way out of this emotional confrontation, Milo took a deep breath before fixing a steady gaze on the man who was leaning down by the knees to look him in the eye.

'_This'll hurt like hell...but I have to accept this.'_

"Hey, D—I mean, Mr. Hyunh... l-listen..."

With each hesitation, Milo's gaze went further down...his own hands wringed themselves in anxiety...one deep breath came before the boy, eyes now sealed shut, released it and plowed own with his answer.

"Just _please _make to write to us after you're—"

No more words came afterwards...because the man quickly situated his large hands on the sides of the head of the child, the action gesturing the young one to remain silent. Coherent thought abated, the boy never looked up at Hyunh, but still gasped at the abrupt contact.

"Shh, my son...," Hyunh whispered lovingly as he placed a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead. His notice did not overlook the overwhelmed tears overtaking the boy's vision...and about to join his own.

Milo still never looked up. The boy couldn't bring himself to. He was too afraid that his own emerald eyes would deceive him, just like how he thought his own ears had just done the same. He feared greatly that looking up would merely confirm his sinking fears of a scowling Hyunh appalled at the idea...the very concept of having him—Milo—of all boys—all _children_— as his child!

Such was not the case.

Rather, a pair of tree trunk-thick arms scooped the tiny tyke and held him firmly yet gently against the soft fabric of a beige, red zigzag-patterned sweater...his tiny teary-eyed head coming to rest right above the man's giant, beating heart. All the while, a warm smile had stretched its way across Mr. Hyunh's face, the Vietnamese man nasally sighing in content at the satisfaction that his "baby boy," now in his grasp where he should be, was warm and snug.

Indeed, the panic and fear that had had such a fierce grip no longer permeated the young one's eased eyes. Yes, this was real. This _was_ reality!

'_**My**__ reality...'_

And no way was this reality going to go to waste!

Milo smiled tearfully in realization of all this and burrowed/snuggled himself deeper into his acknowledged father's thick sweater. The warmth of the man's arms was so...assuring yet intoxicating. It nearly took all the willpower the little one had not to doze off right then and there!

He at least wanted to hear what Mr. Hyunh had to say about this new development...yet his willpower eventually came to the point where it could no longer override the desire for slumber secure and soothing. A tiny yawn, almost like a mew, escaped Milo before his emerald eyes slowly sealed themselves closed at last.

All the while, Arnold and Gerald merely observed, too shell-shocked and moved by the scene to interrupt.

Arnold, most of all...

He had never seen his little brother so...so assured...so satisfied and happy...no wonder then that he, too, bared a cheerful grin.

'_Merry Christmas, Milo.'_

Gerald, of course, same expression as his best bud, felt only relief that the man and the spunky squirt in the giant's arms were finally on common ground with each other.

'_Well it's __**about**__ time.'_

All thoughts went on hold, however, when Mr. Hyunh turned his sights on the two nine-year olds.

"I heard everything. Arnold...Gerald...thank you...what you tried to do for me was so kind," the Vietnamese fellow gave a small smile that soon melted into an apologetic frown, "...and I am also sorry you were disappointed. If I had never met Bonnie and Diego... or if Diego had never died, I would have stayed true to my words, Arnold...But Milo is right. I was torn between the past and the family I had then... and the present and the family that is with me right now. Whether I wish to accept this or not, I have become a father to Milo..."

Mr. Hyunh paused to give the child in his arms—his newfound son—a gaze of paternal endearment that would have put the most protective fathers in the animal kingdom to shame.

"...And I do not regret being that in the slightest."

Arnold Shortman could only grin once more before a nagging thought tickled the back of his mind.

'_But...there's something I __**still **__don't understand.'_

"Still...something just doesn't feel right. Milo said that, deep down, you still want to be where Mai is, and, well... I think he's right. Except we couldn't bring a miracle for you, Mr. Hyunh...who knows when you'll have another chance to find her..."

The Asian man nodded solemnly. He knew what he'd lost. At least he had some clue now about how his own daughter was doing.

'_And at least...she has found her place in the world.'_

"Do not be hard on yourself, Arnold. You at least tried. That means more to me than any present anyone could ever give, save for what Bonnie and Milo have given me."

Then much to the pleasant surprise of both Arnold and Gerald, the blissful Vietnamese man pulled them in with the arm not occupied with holding Milo and wrapped the boys in a one-armed embrace.

"I will never forget what you all did for me."

It was kind of funny, actually. All this time, Arnold, Gerald, Bonnie, Milo, and Mr. Hyunh—heck, almost _everyone_— had all been hoping for some kind of miracle this Christmas. In a way, no one got what they exactly wanted...but they all got something just as wonderful—even better—instead...something they either didn't realize or simply were afraid to accept.

No one ever noticed a flash of blonde pigtails pass by the window...or a larger, olive toned blur followed closely behind said flash.


	29. Ba

**Ba**

"Ba..."

Oh, I see, so the voices...they wish to play again.

I suppose I could humor them. A distraction may be nice in fact.

So I take my eyes off the flames. I take my mind away from the thought of myself simply jumping into the fire to save everyone else the burden.

After all, who needs tattered coat on weathered stick?

My eyebrows, they furrowed at first.

There is standing a woman I do not recognize for a moment.

But then I take closer look.

My life flashes and blurs before my eyes!

My birth...my childhood...the war... my dear wife... Mai...

All my despair...all my anger...all my sorrow...all my desires to end the pain...

Vanish...all of them...

Only then do I realize life is not over.

"Father?"

It has just begun.

"Mai...I can't believe it!"


	30. Hand in Hand

**Redone: I've decided to bring this story back from the grave and continue. The way I ended was just way too sudden and unexpected, so I want to make it up to the people who've read this.**

**Mr. Hyunh and all other canon characters belong to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon. Bonnie and all other OCs belong to me.**

* * *

><p>He gently turned her by the shoulders so their eyes could meet—dark russet to sea foam, earth to ocean. His hands found hers and gripped firmly.<p>

"I wish to ask you something."

The petite Polynesian raised an eyebrow at his charming though nervous smile, her aquamarine eyes lighting up slightly in anticipation. His laid back tone betrayed the butterflies in his stomach. Hyunh was ready for what would come next, of course...but still...

"What's up?"

Both adults knew how much their lives would change in the next few seconds.

Same thought ran in both minds: _'__This is it.'_

One felt anxiety and excitement...the other calm and contentment...

Taking a deep breath, Yiang Hyunh released her hands and lowered himself to one knee...then removed a velvet black, clasped box from his back pocket. He raised his hand so that she could see and, with his other hand, slowly drew back the lid...

Voice dropping to a liquid whisper, "Will you..."

A simple gold ring glimmered in the auburn sunlight pouring down upon the roof of Sunset Arms.

"Marry me?"

No response...In fact, not as much as a gasp or even a smile came from Bonnie's face. The lady islander's face merely remained neutral...

The expression did no wonders for the fiancé's increasing apprehension. A frown began to dominate his countenance, eyes shining in concern.

"Bonnie...?"

She wasn't smiling. Did she hate the ring?

Hyunh's frown only deepened.

_'__I-Is it... too simple? It is too simple, isn't it? Damn it, why didn't I listen to—'_

"Yiang..."

Just like a clear-ringing bell in a bellowing storm, her voice burst through the clouds that had gathered in her lover's mind, casting them away into mental oblivion.

"Y-Yes, _cung..._?"

A slim, brown finger came down and caressed his lips tenderly...its owner whispered back in a tone that matched her wideset grin as she shook her head solemnly.

"I said already said 'yes' a long time ago. You know damn better than that."

At that answer, Yiang quickly grabbed his unofficial wife by the shoulders once again, dipped her back, and planted a deep kiss that left her breathless.

The box fell to their feet...only without its illustrious content.

...Because somewhere among all the passion, the ring managed to find its way onto Bonnie's finger.

Understandably, there was no way for the Pacific Islander to have noticed...not when her husband, his lips detached from hers (at the moment), now had her entranced by the deep chocolate of his irises.

Out of Yiang's throat emerged a growl to beat those of the big cats, and a masculine, sultry tone to match.

"_Eloquent_...as always..."


	31. Dragons

**Mr. Hyunh and all other canon characters belong to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon. Bonnie and all other OCs belong to me.**

* * *

><p>Bonnie hated this.<p>

She hated it all: the constant running...the sudden battles...the never-ending fear of capture...

But most of all, her present company—her son excluded, of course...and perhaps _him_, too, him being the giant blue dragon she and her son, Milo, stumbled across during their attempts to escape the same horrid fate that befell their neighbors back home. He and his two annoyances for friends had been in suspended animation due to a curse that crystallized them, the trio forgotten for a millennium before Milo inadvertently spoke the words that broke the spell.

_'__Gee, I sure wish they'd come alive.'_

We kid you not: those _were _the words that broke the spell. Bonnie slapped a hand to her face in exasperation at the memory. Whoever the hell thought that spell up seriously needed imagination, even if the effects did prove, well, effective.

On the other hand—Bonnie stole a glance at the rest of her group—her son's slip-up turned out to be something of a happy accident. She watched as the dragon of her thoughts flipped a claw carefully through a well-worn sketchbook, his brown-eyed gaze thoughtful and deep, while a tiny yellow dragon dangled from the elder reptile's upright tail.

The dragon child pointed a claw at a page. "That one's of the sky sakura we saw earlier. Back where we're from, Mom and I used to see lots of those during the summer."

Blue Dragon hummed in acknowledgement, a faint smile gracing his beak-like snout. Bonnie could tell her reptile companion was losing himself in the expert rendition of the petals. Her son had a real penchant for drawing.

Bonnie's lips dipped into a frown at her son's new form—or rather true form; still hard to take in the fact that her deceased husband turned out to be a dragon in disguise. _'__And I can't believe I'm not allowed to even hold my own child anymore.'_

What complete and utter bull-crap.

Unfortunately, electrocution worked out rather well as a reason to heed Yiang (Blue Dragon) and his warning from two days ago. That didn't make the inability to kiss her child goodnight any easier to bear. Jealousy bit at her heart more the longer she watched her son and Yiang interact, so she opted to returning her attention to her spell-book to distract herself.

Evidently her method worked because when she jumped from the feeling of a familiarly slimy claw tapping her shoulder, she quickly noticed that the sun had long since left the noon position, meaning that she'd successfully withdrawn from her worries for a solid two hours. Being a bookworm possessed its advantages.

"We need to leave," Yiang notified as soon as the human woman's attention was on him, "Now. I do not know how long those four girls will take to get here, so I refuse for us to take any chances."

_'__Ah, yes, that little blonde smartass and her band of overpowered teenyboppers. Who could ever forget?'_ Bonnie thought, resisting the urge to snort or roll her eyes, instead focusing her energy on packing her items. _'__God, I swear those girls need a better hobby.'_

Especially their leader—Helga, her name was?—geez, that kid needed to learn how to relax...not that Bonnie embodied the term 'icy chill' herself. Of course, the older woman also wasn't prone to blowing up at every single little setback. Of that trait, she took pride in.

_'__I will admit, though...,'_ Bonnie continued to muse as she and her four scaly compatriots trudged their way down a heavily forested path, _'__I think Milo actually managed to wear her defenses down a little before that blonde boy and his friend stepped in.'_

Still, that was no reason to be complacent or overconfident. There remained no telling how willing Helga and those three other girls might go in their efforts to capture their quarry. Bonnie shook her head at the chilling memory of the flaxen girl's gun pointing at her son's head.

"Penny for your thoughts...?"

Not flinching at the pleasingly smooth this time, Bonnie regarded the blue dragon—well _former _dragon—walking next to her with a passing glance. Yiang, Ernie, and Oscar could change their forms into those of other magical races thanks to this special emporium the gang had come across yesterday.

Ernie became some cross between a satyr and a city dweller, red beret and everything while Oscar had picked out a form that reminded Bonnie very heavily of an elf-thief.

And Yiang...well damn, you had to wonder what he'd been thinking when he'd picked out _his_ form: a giant, azure, burly anthropomorphic tiger decked out in only navy-blue silk pants and leather bound around the wrists and ankles. And since he still ranked as the tallest of the group, Bonnie had to resist letting her eyes trail down his bare torso whenever she looked up.

"Eh, it's nothing important," Bonnie admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. At the insistent concern in Yiang's deep brown eyes, she decided to change gears. "So...what exactly was our young prodigy over there showing you?"

Yiang pursed his lips in amused thought. "Oh, a few drawings of people and other creatures...us, for example..."

Bonnie felt her eyebrow perk. "_Us _meaning..."

"You, mainly; there were some drawings of me as well..."

That info piqued the sorceress's curiosity. Hands behind her back, she stepped out in front of him, walking with her back to the direction being traveled so she and Yiang could continue walking and not get left behind. "Ya don't say? What were you doing in them?"

Yiang shrugged his broad fluffy shoulders, bottom lip sticking out, which Bonnie was quickly starting to learn happened a lot whenever the older man was thinking. "Sitting around...others poses...many of them facial expressions...those seem to be Milo's favorite."

A knowing smile slipped across Bonnie's face. "It's not hard to understand why. You can tell plenty from a person's face, even when there's no emotion at all. Of course, some folks are more obvious than others."

Yiang arched an eyebrow at her, unsure whether that'd been an insult or observation, a difference hard to make out with this woman sometimes. Unfortunately, at her expectant stare, Yiang found himself struggling to think up a proper response. Being a man of few words could really suck.

"I think it's admirable." Though the cat-man returned his attention to her, Bonnie paid no attention back, instead rotating to face the front again and keeping her eyes on the trail. "Most people are afraid to wear their emotions on their sleeves, especially men. Others like you and Milo, though...you're not afraid to let your feelings be known, let others know what you really think. Yeah, that trait can cause trouble sometimes, but it also means you're honest with yourself. It proves you're not afraid to feel."

By the time she finished, a dark storm dominated her face, her eyes and frown full of an emotion Yiang had experienced too many times before to not recognize: envy. _'__I never thought of it that way, even though she makes a good point. Still, there is no need for her to be jealous of me. If anything, it should be other way around. I am too free with my feelings while she never lets her anger, sadness, or fear choke her. I am only a broken old man, hardly worth considering.'_

The reality that someone as beautiful and strong as this woman would associate with him, he considered it nothing short of a—what a minute, did she just brush her hand against his? Yiang shot a downward glance at his and Bonnie's hands: nothing. The dark-skinned woman didn't even appear to notice. Shrugging the incident off as his imagination playing tricks on him, the cerulean cat-man returned his attention to the path.

His eyes lit up in surprise once he caught sight of Milo drifting along on a light grey cloud, the young dragon's tail wagging happily as Ernie and Oscar shot up congrats from below. Wow, not even a dragon for a week and he was already making his own thunder clouds? That kid was one fast learner. Yiang couldn't help a brief surge of pride at the boy's accomplishment.

"He's getting better," Bonnie suddenly noted with an unreadable face.

Yiang studied her for a moment before answering with a smile, "Yes, he is. You should be proud of him. That sort of magic is not as easy as it looks, especially for someone his age."

Bonnie only responded with a nod of her head, the chirping of birds filling in the silence instead while the shadows of the trees added depth to her frown. She folded her arms across her chest and kept her attention on her son, counting in her head how many times Milo and his cloud would swirl around Ernie and Oscar, the two men laughing at the boy's antics. Seeing all this brought a smile to Bonnie's face, a smile that did not escape Yiang's notice.

He loved seeing smiles, especially if they belonged to Bonnie.

_'__Bonnie,' _Yiang silently vowed, _'__you and your son will make it in the end...I promise.'_

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter is part of this fantasyscience-fiction Hey Arnold story I intended to write yet never will...so I hoped you all enjoyed this weird little blurb. **


	32. Survive

**Let's be clear. If I ****_did _****own Hey Arnold, the Jungle Movie would've been released years ago by now, it be on DVD by now, ****_and _****there would be merchandise for it on my desk as well.**

**Werewolf AU, by the way, just so you know.**

* * *

><p>A lean navy-blue wolf-man with a white underbelly and wearing brown slacks and glasses crashed against a tree and fell to the ground in a heap.<p>

A shorter stockier solidly black wolf-man wearing only grey jeans followed soon after, landing right next to him and coughing out blood.

"C'mon, you pathetic pieces of shit! Is that all you got?!"

Yiang Hyunh did not respond. He merely wiped the blood off his mouth and struggled to stand back up.

Diego Mahana did the same, except with a snarl that revealed his sharp teeth.

Erebus, a hulking purely crimson werewolf in ebony jeans, laughed hysterically at the pair's reactions, his coal-black eyes regarding them with the same amusement a hunter would prey struggling to escape. "Much better." His voice came out as a whisper, a deadly mocking whisper. "Can't let the fun end already now, can we?"

Smug bastard, Diego snapped in his head. Body and fur already scored by blood seeping from deep lacerations, he stole a glance at his older companion. Judging by the similar injuries, Yiang fared just as well as him and did not seem like he would last one more round.

No, Diego swore, they couldn't die, damn it. Not now. Not to this loser.

Milo was here somewhere and Diego swore on his wife's fiery grave that he would find their son and make this sick monster pay for trying to hurt his family. He just hoped that wolf-girl in yellow fur would come out on her promise and get the kid out.

An earthshaking roar split Diego's train of thought, alerting him to the charging alpha male. As if of the same mind, both he and Yiang cartwheeled out of the way, managing not to scream at the internal injuries that maneuver aggravated. They circled around to the opposite of the clearing and landed on their feet, ready at a moment's notice.

Meanwhile Erebus ended up crashing face-first into the tree, too late to stop his momentum, which meant his head rammed straight into the trunk. As a result, he now fought to pull himself back out. If the situation weren't so dire, Diego would've rolled about laughing. Heck Yiang would have probably chuckled a bit as well.

In fact, some of the werewolves lining the edge of the clearing dared a snicker or two until the sight of Erebus tearing the tree in half with his sheer strength to free himself (all the while unleashing a bloodcurdling howl) shut them up.

His wrathful vision zeroed in on the two wolves immediately. He did not charge this time. He simply approached them with an eerily calm gait, the only indication of his rage being the primal light in his eyes. His patience for these insolent pups had reached its end. And judging by their difficulty to support themselves, now was as good a time as any.

It was time to end their useless lives.

Diego and Yiang were trapped, every exit effectively blocked by either a tree or another werewolf. That left only one way out-and it was coming right at them.

"Diego," Yiang murmured against the pain of his broken ribs, "despite how this looks, we did okay."

The shorter lupine released a low pained chuckle, his emerald eyes dim with bitter resignation. "Heh, heh...yeah. I guess we did. We did alright for a couple of has-beens." He shared a meaningful look with his longtime friend and newly acquired mate. "Ready for one last hurrah?"

Yiang's sad faint grin spoke depths.

Speaking one silent goodbye through their eyes, the two canine-men faced Erebus once more and readied themselves for the end.

"HEY, BUCKO!"

The moment Erebus turned to see who'd yelled out, a blinding flash overtook his vision as well as that of every other werewolf in the vicinity save for Diego and Yiang, who'd recognized the voice and promptly shielded their sight in the nick of time.

While everyone else suffered their visual impairment, Diego and Yiang, moving as one, slashed Erebus's throat open, coating their hands in his blood while his body fell to the ground with a resounding boom. Then, moving as quickly as their wounds would allow, they dashed through the wall of wolves and into the forest before the blindness receded.

Neither wolf knew for how long their escape lasted, hearts racing just as fast as them; all Diego knew was that after he and Yiang merged onto the edge of Hillwood and caught sight of Milo, he never ran so hard before in his life.

Despite the pain of his battered body, he scooped the small boy up in his furry muscular arms and embraced him tightly, cackling in euphoria and relief, his eyes on the verge of crying until the end of time.

"Um, dad, I'm glad ta see you too, but," Milo's voice sounded muffled from being buried in his father's fur, "you're kinda crushing me."

"Crap," Diego hastily set his son back down, embarrassed he got so carried away (not that he didn't have good reason to under the circumstances). "_Lo siento mucho,_ _hijo._"

Milo put a hand on his father's furry hand. He hardly even seemed fazed by the red stains now on his shirt.

_"__Relájate, papá. Estoy bien." _

Diego relaxed, appreciative to have such an understanding son. Yiang tousled the boy's hair, just as thankful he was alright. Their family truly suffered a fright tonight, but hopefully being back home would set everyone at ease.

"Um, Mr. Hyunh? Mr. Mahana?"

Both men froze at the familiar fearful voice. Slowly turning their heads, they remembered Milo hadn't been alone in waiting for them. Arnold stood off to the side in a stupor while a golden werewolf girl in a pink dress and hair-bow sat nearby on a rock, her eyes staring off into space, heavy with thought.

Diego rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Considering he and Baloo Bear looked like they stepped right out of a horror movie, especially thanks to the blood literally still on their hands, Arnold's current state made perfect sense and warranted an explanation for the madness going on.

"Uh, we might wanna take this someplace warmer—and preferably someplace inside with a shower and no potential witnesses."

Arnold simply nodded, still overwhelmed by all the impossible things he'd seen tonight.

**XXXXXXXXXXXX**

Yiang, still in wolf-form and changed into his favorite pink bunny slippers, brown boxers, and unbuttoned baby-blue nightshirt, collapsed onto the bed with a heavy sigh, fur clean as a whistle, mindful of the bandages and stitches adorning his fur.

_'__Ugh, I am getting too old for this.'_

Getting back to the Sunset Arms turned out easier than expected, thank goodness, but good mercy did Suzie let them all have it once they stepped through the door and she caught sight of the cuts and blood. Gertie managed to patch Diego and Yiang up just fine and recommended they hold off on transforming until the injuries fully healed to prevent further damage.

Reasonable advice. Unfortunately, that also meant keeping the blinds down tonight. Not that anyone in the neighborhood would try anything funny. Mythical creatures had been commonplace in this city ever since its founding.

It was the threat of the wolf packs that got folks petrified. Hence why Yiang and Diego took out Erebus during the rescue attempt. Without a leader, the attacks should lessen if not stop altogether, giving Hillwood enough reprieve, even if only temporarily, to work out a more permanent solution.

For now, Yiang just wanted to sleep and forget the events of today. His exhaustion alleviated at the feel of a certain body, donning a white muscle shirt and light grey pajama pants, laying prone atop of him.

"Whatever you do, do not ask for sex, babe." Now _there _was a request Yiang never thought he'd hear from his mate of all beings. Oh the mileage Bonnie could have gotten out of hearing that. "My bod is freakin' wrecked right now and Gertie strictly forbid doing anything strenuous for now so as much I'd hate to say it, here it is: any sexytime tonight is a definite no-no."

Yiang smoothly ran his thick fingers through the fur atop Diego's head. "You forget, _cung_. Our kind heals rather quickly. Do not worry, our 'sexytime' will come soon enough." His smirk melted into a sad frown. "We almost lost our family and our lives. If not for Helga, we would not be here right now."

Diego tenderly licked his mate's cheek. "That girl doesn't get enough love. Definitely not with that family of hers. She needs ta be with people who get her and accept her for who she is."

"Like you did?"

That question got Diego silent. He did not want his mind wandering to that part of his past. The feel of wiry sinewy arms snaking around him and large hands massaging his aching back muscles smoothed the edges of the Latino lupine's tension and drove away his dark thoughts, his tail wagging happily at the attention.

"You are right, by the way." Yiang stroked the other wolf's muscular back as he spoke. "She is good girl. She deserves a good home, just like our son. She risked her life to save Milo. Someone like her deserves better than what she has been dealt. Do not worry, my black fang. We will figure something out, something that will help all of us."

Yiang nuzzled his mate's cool moist nose. "Let us rest for now, _cung. _Everyone we love is safe now."

That assurance soothed Diego easily. Yiang was right. They would have time to figure everything out tomorrow, when they were rested and better healed.

"_Te amo con toda mi alma, mi amor," _Diego whispered. Their kiss lasted long, full of passion and care. _"Ahora y para siempre."_

This heartfelt Spanish earned an eye-roll from Yiang. "Just go to sleep already, you lovesick pup."


	33. Listen

**Mr. Hyunh belongs to Nickelodeon and Craig Bartlett.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Shut up and listen."<em>

That was what Baba always tell me when I was a boy.

He always tell me that silence was best way to understand people. He had belief that words were just like clouds. They cover up what is really there.

"_So stay quiet and listen carefully to what you hear."_

That is at least how I was raised.

And I hated it when I was young.

I hated being silent so much. People thought there was something wrong with me. People think I was mute.

Then people think I was push-over.

I was just following my father's words.

Before I was aware, being quiet became very nasty habit of mine.

It became part of my personality.

Part of me…

Oh, I am so thankful Hue came to me when she did. She helped me break that habit.

Maybe Arnie was raised like me too. Maybe that is why he is so very quiet. He never shouts, he never screams, he never even bangs his fists on the table…

Even despite what he hears from us…

Yes, I still find him very creepy, but I think I understand why he never say much.

You find out so much in the quiet, so many things that show what kind of people you are dealing with.

What they do…

What faces they make…

How they react…

All of it is like mirror of person.

Milo does same thing as Arnie. He never say anything e'cept when he is alone with me or his mudda or Arnold.

But he listens. He observes world around him. Just like his mudda…just like Diego...

He knows so many, many things that way…

So … Baba was right about one thing: words can cover up who people really are.

But I as grew up, I kept asking myself. I kept asking myself how right he was.

I have lied before, yes. I have lied many times before.

Sumtimes, I was happy to do it. I was happy to lie for a woman and her baby so they could escape the war…

Other times, I felt horrible. Like when I lied to my boss…

But…words do not always have to lie.

Like when my daughter and I talk ova' the phone…

She does not lie when she says "I love you."

When I told Arnold the story of how I lost Mai…

He did not lie when he said I did "the right thing."

When Bonnie and I are alone…

She does not lie when she say I am "wonderful kisser" (although I like to try again sumtimes, just to make sure).

None of those times feel like lies to me.

And Baba never said about words _not _from people's mouths.

You can say so, so much without conversation.

That is why I like singing. I feel as if I speak the truth. I speak truth about my happiness. I speak truth about my family. I speak truth about life here in the boardinghouse.

Arnold, Grandpa, Grandma, Bonnie, Milo, Diego (who I miss very much), Ernie, Suzie…even Oskar...

I am glad Gerald and Arnold tricked me into being country western stah.

To have all those people listen…just fo' me…

To know so many chose to listen to my song…

I spoke the truth from my heart…to all of them…

And I enjoyed it. Very, very much…


	34. An Honor

**Mr. Hyunh and all other characters belong to Craig Bartlett and Nickelodeon.**

* * *

><p>I am so very speechless.<p>

Honest, I have no words to say for this.

Not that I am not flattered. After all, I can remember giving Mai away at her wedding.

I just never thought I would do same for Helga.

She always struck me as rebel. Never following rules, always giving authority figures hard time...

Heh, heh, it is no wonder she got along so well with me and the other boarders. And Grandma and Grandpa, too, though for different reasons.

Speaking of them, I wish they could have been alive to see this. Not just for Arnold; for Helga, too. They would have been so proud of these kids. I know I am.

At least Miles and Stella can have this chance to see their son and future daughter-in-law come together this way. This beautiful, unforgettable way. I can see them sitting near the front row, their very, very happy eyes on us as I guide Helga arm-in-arm towards the altar.

This young woman really stole all our hearts after Arnold and his parents left for San Lorenzo. She had seemed so sad and lonely when I accidently found her on boardinghouse porch one day.

She was just sitting there with Abner next her, petting the little pig who looked just as sad with Arnold leaving. I believe I even heard her talking to him before I came out. Not that I do not understand. Loneliness makes you do silly things.

Unfortunately, I had no idea letting her in would have caused me so much trouble.

Mostly because of her father.

Yeesh. Let me just say that I would gladly go through life without dealing with _that _man again. Thank ancestors Helga and Grandma kicked him out of boardinghouse before a scene could erupt.

He did not take kindly to Arnold's proposal either. He took things too far, invaded our home. Grandpa put his foot down after I punched that brute for the 'orphan boy' comment. Yes, I punched Big Bob Pataki. I, a faceless nobody from other country, punched an economic giant.

Helga really took liking to me after _that. _

And no, it turned out not to be fact that I punched out the man who should not be her parent, like I assumed. I was one of the few adults (maybe even first one) to stand up for her like that, which is nothing to demean about her own strength.

I am sure she would have stood up to her father easily as anything. Her little friend once said something about her taking down full grown man three times her size. Amazing girl, really!

But even the strongest need support.

That is what struck me most about Helga.

And perhaps that is why she confided in me so often, especially after she revealed the miracle she brought me and Arnold that one Christmas so long ago. After I shared with her the same story I told Arnold.

She found in me the father she should have had from the beginning.

No wonder she came to me with this opportunity.

Well I did not intend to disappoint.

"Thanks, technically-not-Dad."

"You are very welcome, my technically-not-daughter."

* * *

><p><strong>Needed a bit of Helga in this collection. Hope ya enjoyed!<strong>


	35. Reprieve

**You know one of the best parts of fanfiction? It lets you fulfill the wishes you know will or may never become reality.**

* * *

><p>Russet irises stared out at the endless black overhead. Their owner currently lay sprawled on his back, arms and legs extended out in an angel formation. His body felt sore; his mind, even more from merely thinking.<p>

How long had it been since last he'd heard from or seen the others? A minute? An hour? Perhaps even a year?

Time had lost its meaning somewhere along the way, everything blending into one miasmic stream of sound and color, chaotic and free yet somehow moving in an order that escaped mortal understanding.

All Yiang Hyunh could remember with at least a sliver of lucidity was screaming, blood flying everywhere, and shouts. Angry bellowing shouts. After that, something shorter yet louder, a bright light...getting blown back...

And then oblivion.

_'__I am at least alive. How, I do not know, but it is still good.'_

And if what little he could remember indicated anything, ignorance would be bliss compared to whatever constituted the alternative.

He still needed to find his way out of this hellhole. No time like the present to make a choice. With a pained groan, the olive-skinned man slowly sat up, muscles and bones creaking from injuries (both long-seated and recent), and dared a roundabout scan of his surroundings.

It was dark, for starters. Incredibly dark. Not pitch black, thank goodness—he could still see his own hand in front of his face, but that gave no guarantee he'd find his way out without a light source...or at least something to guide him.

Yiang rubbed the back of his head, nervous. _'Could I be in a cave?'_

He carefully reached out a hand and nearly recoiled at the slimy feel of moss.

Yep, definitely a cave. He was either close to the end or just sitting in a rather small one since his ears could easily catch the sounds of tropical birds cawing in the distance, their voices echoing faintly in the dimness. Perhaps if he followed the sounds, he'd find the exit.

It was the best—and only—plan he had.

_'__I will figure out what to do afterwards. This place is very creepy anyway.'_

Steeling himself with a deep exhale, Yiang marched forward, using the wall to keep from losing his way.

Hopefully he was this cave's sole occupant; otherwise he might as well have fallen out of the frying pan and into the fryer. And call it a trick of the mind but did this cave seem to be taking longer than it should? As far as he could tell, the volume of the caws had not changed at all.

The Vietnamese man shook his head free of these burdensome thoughts. _'Stay positive. Stay positive. Remember: you have gone through things like this before.'_

A grimace instantly took over his face. Best not to dwell on that part of the past, especially now.

His thoughts shifted instead to the incident that landed him and his fellow boarders in this situation, flashbacks slowly filling in the holes in his memories.

This whole trip started out innocent enough—Arnold winning an essay competition at school, getting to choose a location to visit for his class, agreeing to let his boardinghouse family join in (with no small amount of wheedling and begging on their part)—and now _this._

_All _of this.

The pirates, the search for Miles and Stella, some lunatic prophecy centered around Arnold and possibly Helga too on account of the odd stares the villagers had kept giving the blonde dynamo since that one village where Sombra ambushed them.

Poor Arnold. Poor Gerald. Poor Helga. Poor—well _all_ of those kids! Who knew what they were going through right now?

And not just them. La Sombra, what that barbaric rogue called himself, scattered the adults in an attempt to do away with them lest they end up blabbing his secrets and plans.

Oh wait. Maybe _that _caused the explosion. Yiang still questioned how those thugs managed to attain something so dangerous. And if they were willing to commit such an atrocity towards grown-ups—

Yiang's steps suddenly stopped cold...then quickened.

He had to find the others, the children in particular. Memories of tears and burning homes stormed across his mind, forcing the poor man to pause again to close his eyes and take deep cleansing breathes. _'This will not be like Vietnam. This will be nothing like Vietnam. Your family is going to get out of this, Hyunh. Just keep walking.'_

He did so.

To his great fortune, light soon welcomed him with its enveloping warmth, blooms of all hues shimmering like organic gems. As the soft brown earth squished beneath his hiking boots, Yiang smiled at last and breathed in the scent of jungle almost greedily, stretching his back lithely all the while.

"Oh yes, this is much more good," he groaned in satisfaction before setting his hands akimbo and looking around, "Now then. Where to go from here?"

Very good question.

Thankfully due to years living with his home village's climate, Yiang was used to biomes such as this. Plus, his parents taught him a long time ago survival skills he would need just in case of an emergency—and as far as the Vietnamese man was concerned, this mess fit the bill.

A frown took over.

At the same time, he knew little to nothing about San Lorenzo save for what Arnold related to him on the plane to here. A blush crept over the Asian man's cheeks at his mistake of not researching this country beforehand. He could have even asked that fellow Eduardo or the locals for Oskar's sake!

Classic tourist mistake.

Cue perfect facepalm.

So in short, Mr. Hyunh was an out-of-towner all alone in a massive unfamiliar jungle with not only the threat of death by river pirates and/or voracious wildlife hanging over his head but also lost to boot.

"Quan Am, help me. I am getting too old for this."

Speaking of old...

When Yiang removed his hand and continued looking around in hopes of a landmark, his eyes noticed something out of place in between some trees in the far distance and so narrowed to better focus on the object.

He tilted his head curiously. Were those...stone ruins?

Steadily and cautiously, Yiang made his way past the thick tangled foliage, mindful to watch his step lest he tread on something unpleasant. At the same time, he kept his ears out for anything human. Hopefully he still remembered how to make himself scarce among tropical flora.

Before long, his large hands parted a few huge overhanging leaves, revealing what turned out to indeed be ruins.

In a circle stood towering eight stone pillars, each lined with moss and oddly familiar green eye symbols, around some fashion of rotund plaza and terraced circular pyramidal altar composed of the same material and decorations, except with a massive half-open eye on the altar.

_'__Some place of worship for the Green Eyes, I see.'_

Driven by intrigue overpowering trepidation, the outsider dared a step onto the central plaza, some mysterious aura of power emanating around him like an unseen river enveloping his mortal form in its mystic presence.

Yiang neared one of the pillars and tremulously reached his right hand out to the worn brick surface. Soft fingers traced the coarse stone as gingerly as they could. They eventually made contact with one of the eye motifs, flinching as they did as if burned.

Yet no fear plagued the man's mind.

Memories of temples back home inundated it instead with nostalgic comfort, easing worries into a steady calm. For a moment of empathy, Yiang mused on whether the Green Eyes felt the same here, certain and secure by the feeling of unseen protection and guidance, of comfort and assurance.

Standing here, in this stone reprieve amidst a labyrinth of life and death, Mr. Hyunh wondered if he himself felt the same.

His fingers returned to the motif.

His eyes closed.

His chest expanded.

His muscles lost any remaining tension.

His face expanded in a soft smile.

And for a moment, the madness of this journey did not exist.

_'__Even in chaos, there is always some peace.'_


End file.
